First Impressions
by ihearttony
Summary: Tony risks his life to save Vance's children during an explosion. Can Gibbs, Vance, and the team work together to protect Tony from terrorists set on revenge? Will Vance ever see beyond the image to the person Tony really is? Papa Gibbs.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note:** I came up with this story because I wanted Vance to develop some respect for Tony. So I tried to create a scenario that would force the Director to re-evaluate his opinion of our hero. Along with that we still have Papa Gibbs (a few chapters in), a nice Palmer moment, a whisper of Tiva, and a lot of hurt (but brave and competent) Tony, and the rest of the team along for the ride. There's a twist in Ch. 6 that I hope is a surprise and not totally crazy, but it happened when I wasn't sure where this story was going to end up and decided it needed a little more "ooomph."

And for any Ohio State fans, I've thrown in some Buckeye references. I live in Ohio, so when I found out Tony went to OSU, I was completely blown away!

As always, this story is complete and a new chapter will be posted every day or two. If you enjoy it, please review and story alert. Knowing people like the story is incentive to continue writing more! Plus, I love to hear from you (I got a couple of ideas from reviewers on my last story that I added in, and it was much better). Love to all you Tony hurt/comfort fans (you know who you are) ** :) **!

**TLH**

NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stepped between the small girl who was struggling valiantly to hold back her tears and the deranged assassin who was aiming a semi-automatic weapon at her head. "Let's all calm down," he said softly, trying to diffuse the tense situation. The man with the weapon, who Tony knew was named Ahmed, continued to stare at the girl with blank, dead eyes.

"Shut her up," the terrorist demanded. "If you do not, I will do so, permanently."

At these words the girl whimpered, but her sobs started to diminish.

"I'll take care of it, Ahmed, just don't hurt anyone," the NCIS agent insisted. Tony sat down next to the girl on the couch. "It's ok, Kayla, everything's going to be alright. You just have to be brave and stay as quiet as possible. Can you do that?"

The little girl looked up at Tony with large, tear-filled eyes, "I'm so scared," she whispered.

"I know sweetie," Tony responded. "I'm a little scared, too. But I promise I won't let anyone hurt you or Jared. Do you believe me? I am your Very Own Special Agent Tony, remember?" He gave her a reassuring smile.

Kayla returned her own small smile when reminded of the nickname she had made up several days ago after Tony had been assigned to protect her and her older brother. "I remember," she said, and calmed down a bit. Her brother sat stoically at her side, stubbornly refusing to give the assassins the satisfaction of knowing just how frightened he was at the moment. He just glared at the men, hoping they could feel the immensity of his hatred.

Tony rubbed the back of Jared's head. "Listen, buddy, when this is all over we're going to an Ohio State football game together, ok? I'll pull some strings, and we'll have seats on the fifty yard line. Me, You, and Brutus the Buckeye. What do you think?" Tony asked, giving the boy something distracting to think about.

"That sounds great, Tony," Jared replied, recalling how the federal agent had played football with him yesterday, showing him lots of cool moves from Tony's time with the Buckeyes. Once Jared had found out Tony played for the National Championship Team, he had considered the NCIS agent nothing short of a celebrity. Jared knew he wasn't very good at football himself, but he wanted to be and Tony had been patient enough to work with him until late in the evening. Staring at the gunmen nervously pacing the room, Jared hoped Tony would be able to keep his promise.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"SitRep," Vance yelled at McGee and Ziva. "What the hell is going on here? You were supposed to be protecting my family! How did those people get in there?" Veins were throbbing in the Director's forehead and he looked as if he might erupt at any moment.

McGee swallowed hard before replying, "We aren't exactly sure, Director. I was monitoring your home from the van when communications and all monitors went off-line. I immediately contacted Tony, but the terrorists were already breaking through the door. I heard some shots, and, uh, screams before the walkie-talkie went out." McGee paused before continuing, "However, heat imagery shows that Tony and both children are fine. There appear to be two men holding them hostage. Ziva was escorting your wife on a shopping trip when this went down, so Mrs. Vance was not involved."

The Director took the toothpick out of his mouth and pointed it at the agents, "Based on our intel we knew that someone was threatening my family. So the fact these people were able to do this right under our noses is, frankly, unbelievable to me. If I find out that either of you screwed up and allowed this to happen, I swear you will be lucky to ever see an assignment outside of Antarctica." The Director stared hard at them both, then stalked off to talk to his wife and confer with the SWAT team.

"I really wish Gibbs was here," McGee said quietly.

"Me too," Ziva agreed.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The terrorists were whispering quietly in Arabic, gesturing out the window at the surrounding police vehicles. Tony wished Ziva were with him so she could interpret what they were saying. Earlier, one of them had placed a brief cell phone call during which the only words Tony recognized were "shot", "DiNozzo", and "Vance." However, he didn't need to speak their native tongue to recognize the body language that indicated the two men were highly agitated and trying to determine how to resolve the situation.

"You know," Tony offered, "you could just surrender. I'm sure you have information that could be traded for reduced sentences, and this would all be over with no one getting hurt." Tony knew his words were probably futile, but he had to try something.

Ahmed looked at him and scoffed, "And end up in Gitmo? I don't think so Agent DiNozzo." The terrorist stepped close to Tony, who scooted away from the two children to the other end of the couch so they wouldn't be in such close proximity to the frightening man. "Your Director Vance should have considered the possibilities when he decided to order the operation that killed my wife and child. They were innocent, Agent DiNozzo, just as these children are innocent. And I swore that with my dying breath I would have vengeance," his dark eyes blazed with hatred. "It is not my desire to shed innocent blood, but the Director must be made to understand his actions, and he can only do that by sharing in my pain."

The assassin leaned in next to Tony's ear, "And when Leon Vance holds the broken bodies of his dead children in his arms, then he will understand. Only at that moment will the burning in my heart be satisfied."

"Vance was responsible for your family dying? Are you sure?" inquired Tony, wondering why the Director hadn't told them this information when he ordered the protection detail. He had only said that an anonymous threat had targeted his family.

Ahmed pulled Tony from the couch to stare him in the eye. "Of course I know it was Vance! He fought against my father in Afghanistan and the attack was a continuation of his hatred. My family will not allow his actions to go unpunished!" he screamed in rage, inches from Tony's face.

Tony backed up a step to remove himself from the man's intense anger. He was himself outraged at the dawning realization that Vance had endangered his own family and the lives of his agents in order to keep these secrets. DiNozzo recalled an eerily similar experience of being used by those higher up in the chain-of-command. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Ahmed read Tony's unveiled facial expression and laughed abruptly. "He never told you! You had no idea why we are here!" He laughed again. "Your Director Vance is an outstanding manipulator and liar—this is but another example of his deception."

Watching the swarthy man pace back to the window and peer out, DiNozzo had a revelation.

"You don't plan on leaving here alive, do you?" Tony asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, Agent DiNozzo, none of us will be leaving here today alive. I am ready to accept that. Are you?" Ahmed straightened and walked back to the other side of the room.

Hearing the exchange, Jared and Kayla looked at Tony with horror clearly written on their stricken countenances. He gave them what he hoped was another comforting grin, "It's ok," he mouthed. Neither child appeared to believe him.

_"Damn you, Vance," _Tony thought, wishing the Director had divulged all the details of the protection duty. They could have been more prepared if they had been told. At least the team would have known to be waiting for a couple of terrorists hell-bent on revenge and not a couple of street thugs trying to cause trouble. Looking at the two children huddled at the end of the couch, Tony wondered how Vance could have done something so stupid when it involved his own family. Sitting back down and gathering the children close, he silently tried to figure out how to get them safely out of this mess.

_"Damn you, Vance,"_ he said to himself once more, as Kayla began whimpering again despite the fierceness of his hug.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The SWAT commander explained the rescue plan to Director Vance and Special Agents McGee and David. "Since there are only two assailants, we believe it is possible to advance into the home when they both take up position next to the front door, farthest away from where they have been holding the children. As we enter from the front, we will also send agents into the back of the house to secure the children while the terrorists are engaged at the entrance," he stated matter-of-factly.

Vance rubbed his chin. "Do you think this is our best chance of getting the hostages out alive?" he questioned. _"These hostages are my children," _Vance corrected silently.

"Yes, sir. We will station a team here and wait until the terrorists move into this area of the home. It is our best chance, sir, to resolve the situation with little or no harm to the children," the commander provided.

"Do it," Vance directed as he walked away to explain what was about to happen to Jackie.

Ziva stopped the SWAT commander before he turned to leave. "You do know there is also a federal agent in there, correct?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "We will do our very best to protect him."

"Thank you," she said, hoping it would be enough.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"Agent DiNozzo, could you step into the foyer, please," Ahmed requested.

_"Damn polite terrorists_," Tony thought, as he removed himself from Kayla's hug and reluctantly followed Ahmed across the room. Khalid, weapon cradled in his lap, sneered at Tony as the agent passed in front of him. The second terrorist was nursing a freely bleeding shoulder wound that Tony had managed to inflict when the two men invaded Vance's home. Tony almost managed to subdue both men, but Ahmed had grabbed Jared, using him as a shield, and Tony had no choice but to surrender his weapon. That had been several hours ago, and they were no closer to settling the stalemate. The surrounding NCIS agents, FBI, SWAT team, and local authorities were all waiting to see the terrorist's next move. Tony had been waiting, too.

Ahmed grinned at Tony, even though his cold, black eyes revealed no mirth. "As I said earlier, my brother and I never planned on getting out of this situation alive. It is here we will make our stand and give our final tribute to Allah," he explained. "Soon, your law enforcement officials will storm this house and attempt to rescue you and the little ones, but when they do they will find a nice surprise."

Tony's eyes widened at the sight of a bomb placed underneath the table in the entryway. _"What is it with crazy terrorists and bombs? Someone really needs to figure that out_," Tony thought distractedly.

Ahmed continued, laying the detonator atop the table, "Even though we will die ourselves, it will be our great pleasure to take as many of your agents with us as possible. Ultimately, we look forward to their attack on our position."

Tony's eyes narrowed, "Why are you showing me this? Do you just want to gloat?"

Ahmed chuckled, "No, my friend, however I did want you to know the fate awaiting your teammates. Since, you see, you will not be alive when this happens."

Focused on the bomb, Tony had not heard as Khalid quietly walked up behind him. Without warning, a thin leather cord was wrapped around Tony's neck and the assassin was mercilessly choking the life from the federal agent. Ruthlessly Khalid jerked backward, embedding the cord into Tony's flesh.

"You see," Ahmed continued without concern, "Khalid hates being shot. It makes him very upset. So he wanted to ensure that your death, was, shall we say, a little more personal?"

Tony instinctively grasped at the cord that was slowly tightening, cutting off any oxygen that might slip through to his abruptly starving lungs.

Khalid laughed sadistically; Ahmed smiled benevolently. "The garrote is Khalid's favorite method of killing. It is only fair that he practice it one more time before we ourselves meet our end," he explained to Tony, whose face was turning from red to purple and the vessels in his eyes were beginning to rupture. Darkness pressed in on Tony as he fought against the excruciating pain in his neck and throat. Desperately he sought for a way to remove the cord, but Ahmed still held him at gunpoint and Khalid showed no signs of relenting. Every muscle in his neck strained and his throat felt as if it were collapsing on itself.

Suddenly, the SWAT team swarmed through the front doors. Khalid and Ahmed barely had time to react as the heavily armed officers surged into the house.

Khalid lost his grip on the garrote and fell backwards, trying to aim his weapon as bullets pierced his flesh. Tony tumbled to the floor, struggling to force oxygen through his damaged airway. Barely on the edge of consciousness, he looked up to see Ahmed grasping the detonator for the bomb.

"NO!" Tony tried to scream, but his abused vocal chords produced no sound. Shots tore through Ahmed, yet he had somehow managed to hold on to the detonator, determined that his last act would be killing as many of his enemies as possible. _"Jared, Kayla,"_ Tony thought. Ignoring the agony in his neck and throat, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled toward the living room, grabbing the shocked and frightened children and pushing them into a corner. He threw his own body over them, trying to use as much of his size and bulk to shield them as possible. Huddled beneath him, he could feel them shaking as…..

The bomb exploded. The concussion tore through the lower part of the house sending out a wave of heat and devastation. Tony crouched lower, pulling the children beneath him as tightly as possible. Windows shattered, furniture ripped apart, and holes were blown through, wood, concrete and masonry. The world became a fireball of flames and obliteration. Tony could feel shrapnel hitting his back and arms; he thought he could hear the children screaming but then there was no sound, only an encompassing roar that settled over everything. Something heavy struck his back and pushed him forward onto Kayla and Jared; he could no longer hold himself off of them. Agony sped through his body, a level of pain that he never knew existed, twisting through every tendon, muscle, and joint that connected him. _"Please let them live through this," _he prayed,_ "please…"_

As the pain he believed could never get worse intensified to another unknown level, Tony's ravaged body gave up, unable to process any more. He sagged limply against his young charges and entered into a dark, black void, free of pain, thoughts, or feelings and leaving behind him a maelstrom of chaos and annihilation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note: **To all who reviewed--thank you so much! I love to hear from you, so if you like today's installment, please let me know. And for those of you asking, Gibbs will be back soon. It's just that not having him around makes our poor Tony suffer just a bit more--and gives mean old Vance time to hang around and cause trouble. Oh, and the terrorists aren't done yet, they just need a chance to regroup.

Love to all,

TH

Vance, Ziva, and McGee stood along the perimeter observing the SWAT team prepare to enter the house. An agent monitoring the heat imagery software held up his hand to show they needed to wait. As three larger images stopped in the foyer, the SWAT member dropped his hand and yelled, "NOW!" into his headset.

Several of the armed men surged forward, knocking down the door and entering the house. Seconds ticked by during which shouting could be heard, followed by multiple shots being fired. The three NCIS agents leaned forward trying to determine what was happening inside.

The explosion surged over them without warning, forcing everyone outside to duck down and cover their heads. As a deafening sound erupted, glass flew everywhere, the front door blew off its hinges and landed in the yard, and bright orange flames leapt outward before sucking back into the interior of the damaged home. Several SWAT agents who stood directly in line with the bomb were blown backward, bodies twisting in the air before slamming into the ground. Alarms on cars surrounding the home blared, as windshields buckled and broke. Even standing many yards away from the house, the agents could still feel the heat from the blast wave as it passed over them.

Vance was the first one up. "Kayla! Jared!" he screamed, and ran toward the gaping hole in the front of his home. He sprinted past stunned SWAT members, who had not regained their senses enough to stop him. Holding his arms up to shield himself, the Director stepped into the gathering flames and thickening smoke. He passed by the body of a SWAT agent who had been torn apart by his close proximity to the explosion. The body of the terrorist who had detonated the bomb was shorn to pieces, bloody sections of him scattered throughout the foyer.

"Kayla! Jared!" the desperate father yelled again, moving in the direction of the living room, trying to locate his children. "Can you hear me?"

Moving as quickly as possible while trying to avoid the crumbling debris, Vance picked his way toward what had once been the living room of his home. He passed by the second terrorist who was sprawled beneath a large section of the wall, legs askew and gun still clasped in his grip. It was impossible to tell if the man were dead or alive.

As the smoke continued to build, Vance kept surging forward, tearing off his jacket to hold over his face. His eyes were watering and his skin was tingling from the increasing heat. Narrowing his eyes, he saw a foot and leg protruding from beneath an overturned cabinet in the corner. Quickening his pace, he recognized the appendage as belonging to the NCIS agent ordered to protect his family.

Grasping the edge of the heavy armoire, Vance heaved the large piece of furniture off the still body. It tilted precariously for a moment as he readjusted the position of his hands to prevent it from smashing back down on the agent. Finally maneuvering the object onto the floor, he heard a soft whimper. "Daddy," Kayla cried out, followed by a small cough.

"I'm coming, baby," Vance responded, turning around, but the sight he was met with stopped him cold. Agent DiNozzo was laying over the two children, arms curled around them in a protective hug. It was obvious he had shielded them from the worst damage of the explosion. The shirt on DiNozzo's back and arms was torn and shredded from shrapnel and flames, blood oozing through the tattered remains of the fabric. A large and bloody gash snaked along the back of his skull. The man wasn't moving; Vance could see no signs of life.

"Daddy!" Jared yelled from beneath the agent's arms. "Tony's dead! I think Tony's dead!"

Both his children were now coughing and crying hysterically.

"Alright guys, don't move," he said as gently as he could. "Let me check on Agent DiNozzo then we'll all get out of here."

Vance carefully reached out to check for DiNozzo's pulse—it took a few seconds, but he finally found one, slow and thready. "He's alive," he told the kids, hoping to calm them down. Sitting back on his heels; Vance tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to get them out of there as quickly as possible; the fumes from the fire were making it difficult to breathe, and the entire structure was unstable. But should he move DiNozzo? It was impossible to tell the extent of the Senior Field Agent's injuries.

Ziva appeared out of the haze and bent by the Director's side, her face a mixture of worry and fear. "The paramedics are behind me," she said.

Vance shifted out of the way, grateful to have their assistance. He reached out and grabbed Kayla's hand, tremors coursing through her tiny limb and into his own arm.

The EMT's swiftly assessed the scene and decided the best course of action was to remove all the victims immediately and continue emergency treatment outside of the structure. A soft cervical collar was gently eased around Tony's neck and he was rolled onto a stretcher which the EMT's carried out of the house. Vance then picked up Jared and Ziva bundled up Kayla, both agents following the stretcher and ducking around flames and falling chunks of wood.

Jackie Vance raced to meet her children as they were brought out to the front lawn. Taking Kayla from Ziva's arms, the mother's tears were soon mingled with the child's own. A second set of paramedics met them and began assessing the siblings for injuries. As they were checked for burns and broken bones, and their lungs were monitored for smoke inhalation, Jared stared across the lawn at the NCIS agent who was the center of a frantic group of emergency personnel. Tony had been secured to a backboard and a gurney; a tight-fitting oxygen mask had been placed over his nose and mouth. The team was loading him into the back of an ambulance for transport to a Level 1 Trauma Unit.

Jared watched it all in silence, only vaguely aware of the ministrations of the technicians delicately treating his own minor injuries. The young man's wet eyes found those of his father, "He saved us, Dad. Tony saved us. Please don't let him die."

Taking in the scene around him, Vance was momentarily overwhelmed. Flames and smoke were spitting from the remains of his home. McGee stood with his arm around a disheveled Ziva, both silently observing their friend's struggle to survive. Vance noticed tear stains streaking through the black smudges on Ziva's cheeks. It was surreal. Then the ambulance pulled away, lights flashing and sirens screaming into the night, and the Director once again looked at his son. "Just as soon as I know you two are alright, I'll go take care of him, Jared. I'll make sure that Agent DiNo….._Tony _is just fine. I promise you I won't let him die," he said solemnly. Silently Vance prayed that he wasn't lying to his son.

The boy coughed and laid his head on his father's chest, closing his eyes for the first time in hours. "Thanks, Dad," he said. Jared knew his Father always kept his promises.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

"We need an O2 level right now, please," the lead paramedic requested from his partner as he listened to the federal agent's respiration. "I hear a lot of wheezing which indicates a high level of smoke inhalation and a possible pulmonary contusion." The medical technician turned to make an adjustment, "I'm setting oxygen levels at 100% until further evaluation."

"Any sign of consciousness?" the younger EMT asked.

"He's blinking….I think he might be trying to come around," his partner responded, continuing his assessment of the injured man.

Tony gasped and tried to swallow, but it seemed someone had slipped razor blades down his throat. The pain was excruciating. Beyond any rating scale he had ever been asked to use. His back burned and it felt as if tiny knives had been embedded in his skin. What had happened? He tried to move, but he couldn't; something was holding him down. He couldn't even turn his head to the side._ What the hell? _He wanted to open his eyes, to see where he was and ask for help with the incredible pain, but his eyelids were leaden, they wouldn't budge. Behind a dull roar he could hear voices, but they were difficult to make out and the words were incomprehensible. Someone placed a hand on his arm and held it there, giving him an anchor. _Was it Gibbs? Gibbs was always there when he got hurt. Gibbs would sit with him, watch out for him, make sure it was alright. _He tried to say the name, and with great effort managed to barely open his eyes. The green orbs searched for the man he knew would explain everything, and give him some reassurance about what was happening. "_Why isn't he here? Who are these people?_ " Tony asked himself, feeling panicked despite his best effort to calm his racing heart. _"Why can't I remember anything? Where is Gibbs?"_ he thought somewhat frantically.

The paramedic noticed the flickering eyelids and increasing heart rate. The patient was becoming agitated, which he didn't need to do right now. "Agent DiNozzo?" the paramedic spoke to the man, trying to calm him. "You're on your way to the hospital. You can't move because you're strapped to a backboard and we're still assessing your injuries. I promise we'll make you more comfortable as soon as possible. Just stay with me, ok?"

Tony tried to look at the person attached to the voice, but he could only see fuzzy shapes. He wanted to tell him about the ginsu knives slashing at his throat and back, but found the only sound he could make was a low moan. He desperately wanted to take a deep breath, but it seemed impossible to do. Stabbing pains were now erupting in his chest so he could only manage short shallow gasps of air, despite the mask strapped to his face. The paramedic's eyes narrowed in concentration as he noticed the further distress. "I'm finding signs of tachycardia and hypotension. He's still not getting enough oxygen; I think he's going into shock."

"Do we need to intubate?" the second paramedic questioned.

Despite the agony and confusion, Tony was trying to follow the conversation taking place around him; his eyes widened at their words. He didn't want that, but he couldn't stop them, couldn't even tell them no. He was helpless and alone.

The paramedic noticed his reaction. "How far are we from the hospital?" he asked.

"About five minutes," his partner estimated.

The lead medical technician rubbed Tony's arm, "Let's hold off—I'll suggest they insert a central line for extra fluids and maybe we can avoid the respirator."

Tony closed his eyes and tried to breathe more evenly; he would do anything to stay off the ventilator. But his moment of relief was fleeting; pain continued to radiate through him, to the point he was unaware of where it even originated, it just was. It consumed him, and as it pulled him back into velvet darkness, the last thought that came to him was, _"Where is Gibbs?"_

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Dr. Donald Mallard was waiting when the ambulance arrived. Ziva had called to tell him of Tony's condition and asked him to meet their friend at the hospital. Mallard readily agreed, but despite her warning that Anthony had been involved in a serious explosion, he still was not prepared for what greeted him as the young man was rushed through the emergency room doors.

"Oh my dear boy," the doctor said, after he introduced himself and received permission to consult with the trauma team. Knowing the group of doctors now attending DiNozzo were highly trained in the injuries Anthony had sustained, Mallard stayed out of their way, observing as the specialists immediately started assessing and treating the critical patient. He stepped closer as a physician said, "Take a look at this—we have a severe neck wound here, but it doesn't look like something that would have happened during the blast."

The doctor had removed the soft collar that was stabilizing Tony's neck to find the bloody and deep cut extending from one side of his throat to the other. Dark purple bruises were scattered across the injured area. "It looks like someone tried to strangle him prior to the explosion. Let's get this cleaned up and x-rayed; I'd say it's added to his respiratory issues."

As the team performed a quick but thorough assessment, Mallard noticed that occasionally Tony's eyes would slide open and he would look around, but there seemed to be little recognition of his surroundings. Several times the staff asked Tony if he could wake up for them, but he seemed unable to do so at their command. The periods of consciousness were random and brief.

"We need to get look at his back," one of the burn specialists indicated after severe spinal trauma had been ruled out.

"Ok, let's roll him on his side," the other physician agreed. Carefully, the entire team moved Tony over so they could check the damage to his back. With several assistants helping keep the unconscious man in position, the specialist quickly removed the slivers of glass and fabric that had been driven into the agent's skin. He thoroughly cleaned the burns before bandaging the area to avoid infection.

Soon, Tony was being sent away for more diagnostic tests to better determine the extent of his injuries. Before leaving to attend the patient, the lead physician paused to address the elderly medical examiner.

"It's really too early to identify all of your friend's injuries, but we do know several things at this point. He is suffering from what we call Primary Blast Injury. The smoke, heat, pressure from the explosion, and the neck wound have all combined to create serious respiratory trauma. We also suspect a pulmonary contusion which should be confirmed by MRI. Although he does have a scalp wound, I don't believe the concussion is serious. His back has some areas of first, second and third degree burns from the fire, as well as multiple cuts from the glass. We'll make sure to check for any shards that have lodged under the skin and remove those," he paused at the long list, realizing it was a frightening litany of damage.

"It will be several hours before we finish the diagnostic part of the process. But I promise I'll come back with an update as soon as I can," he grasped the fellow physician on the arm to provide some reassurance. Even with the Mallard's medical background, the man had taken on a stricken expression.

"Thank you, I'll be waiting," the ME said soberly, watching as the trauma specialist followed Tony through the doors.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Director Vance kissed his wife on top of her head and placed a comforting arm across her shoulders. The parents had just been informed that although both children would be kept overnight for observation, neither had been seriously injured enough to require further treatment.

Jackie sighed, "Leon, this was too close."

"I know," he agreed. "My work can be dangerous, but it should never involve the kids like this." He paced through the waiting room.

"Have you heard anything about Agent DiNozzo?" she asked.

"Not yet," the Director replied. "Let me check in with Agents David and McGee and then I'll see what I can find out." He stepped into the hallway while dialing the phone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Re-entering the waiting area, Vance was met by his wife and Doctor Mallard, who were holding hands and talking quietly. They stood to meet him. "Dr. Mallard, I was coming to find you for an update on Agent DiNozzo."

"Well, Director, our poor Anthony has seen better days. He always seems to be putting himself in harm's way, that one. He is being moved to ICU, which is where I am headed now, but I wanted to check on your dear children first. Jackie says they will be fine, which is wonderful news," he declared.

Stepping closer to Vance, the ME lowered his voice, "Director, I was wondering if you have been able to contact Jethro. I dare say he would want to know about this situation, and since he is Anthony's next-of-kin it would be pertinent to have him involved."

"As soon as things settle down I'll try to inform him," the Director stated. "But you know it might be impossible to do. He's deep undercover at this point, and any interruption might jeopardize the operation."

"Yes, yes," Mallard agreed. "It's just that Anthony's condition is rather critical, and I believe Jethro's presence would be a great benefit to the young man." He paused, wondering how far to push the Director regarding the situation. Choosing to wait for now, he said, "I'd better head up to ICU. Jackie, I will check in again before the children are discharged tomorrow."

"Please keep us updated on Agent DiNozzo," she asked the kindly Medical Examiner.

"Of course," he replied, entering the elevator.

Jackie Vance turned to face her husband. "So are you aware that Tony has almost no family to look after him? His father is out of the country and no one knows how to reach him, even if he would return. His mother is dead. No brothers or sisters. According to Dr. Mallard, the closest thing he has to family is Agent Gibbs. And you _might _be able to get in touch with him? That is completely unacceptable, Leon."

"There are circumstances here you don't understand, Jackie, and I am not at liberty to share them with you even if you are my wife. I _will_ do my best to contact Agent Gibbs, it's just that it might not be possible to do so immediately."

"And until you do contact him? Who is going to watch out for Tony? Do I need to remind you that we might not have our two children here with us if it weren't for him? I'll stay with him myself if I need to," she informed Vance angrily.

"No, you won't," he stated. "Tomorrow you and the children are going to leave town for an extended period under armed protection," He silenced her question with a look. "The two terrorists we killed might not be the only ones trying to harm us. You and the children need to be as far away and safe as possible until I figure out what to do."

He reached over to embrace his wife, who was visibly shaken at his words. "Don't worry, honey. I will take care of all of you and I'll watch out for DiNozzo, too. There's a pretty good chance he just got himself added to the hit list, anyway. Just trust me, ok?" he asked.

"Always," she replied, fiercely returning his hug.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony found himself in a void between awake and asleep, half aware that he should open his eyes, but unable to send the right commands to make his muscles obey. It felt like being trapped in a weighted cocoon, where his brain knew what it wanted to do but his body had other ideas. He convulsively tried to swallow, only to be met with stabbing and burning sensations, accompanied by gagging and coughing.

DiNozzo could sense someone leaning over him, and then something cold and wet touched his dry and cracked lips. "You can't have any water, but the doctor said this was alright if you want it. It might make your throat feel better," the ice chip slipped into his mouth, allowing the wetness to trickle down his damaged throat. "_Gibbs finally made it," _Tony thought gratefully.

Another ice chip was offered and he took it, still not finding the strength to open his eyes. As the melting ice slid down his aching throat, Tony once again tried to swallow, but he gagged instead, choking and gasping on the tiny trickle of water. He tried to sit up, discovered he couldn't, and then felt someone carefully raising his head off the pillow. The strong hand cradled his head and kept him from drowning on the small ice cube. The coughing subsided and he groaned miserably. As the ice melted away he finally found the strength to open his eyes and try to thank his boss.

The choking returned as he stared into the face of his benefactor, NCIS Director Leon Vance.

Tony firmly closed his eyes and decided he was sicker than he thought; he was definitely hallucinating. He felt his head gently eased back down on the pillow. He wanted to look around, figure out exactly what was going on, but he was so weak, it was impossible to even raise a finger. The sense of helplessness was frightening.

He was hurting everywhere—his back, his chest, his neck. He felt like a noose was around his throat, it was tight and constricted, and every breath, every heartbeat brought a fresh round of piercing agony. Suddenly, he remembered. _The explosion._ The pieces that had been floating around in his jumbled brain fell into place.

When he was able to open his heavy eyes again, Vance was still there, in a seat by the bed. The Director stood, hovering close, and asked with what sounded like concern, "Do you need something?"

Mustering all his strength, Tony managed to struggle out a whisper, "Get. The Hell. Out." He punctuated the statement with as much of a glare as he could manage, then promptly passed back out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note: **This chapter is out of control long. I don't know what happened! But it moves the plot forward, so I decided to just leave it alone and hope it isn't too much. Remember, my medical knowledge comes from WebMD and I don't watch NCIS LA, so I hope I got the names right.

**Spoiler: **For anyone wondering where Abby is, she and Palmer have an exciting time at the start of Ch. 4. Our favorite autopsy gremlin gets to be a hero! Plus, unhappy Gibbs and more crazy terrorists!

Thank you so much for all the supportive reviews! I've tried to touch base with everyone, because I really appreciate that you take the time to comment. Keep them coming, and I'll keep working hard on this story!

You guys are great :)

TH

McGee and Ziva stared at the images of four men displayed on the plasma screen. "Ahmed and Khalid Aziz are the two terrorists who were killed in the explosion yesterday," McGee explained to Ziva. "They have another brother named Amir and their father is Hazim Aziz, both of whom are reported to be somewhere in the United States at the moment."

"Why were they targeting Director Vance?" Ziva questioned. She was trying to determine why this man would harm not Vance himself, but his children.

"It appears the Director was working in Afghanistan some time ago and was closely associated with Hazim Aziz. Hazim was helping Vance identify and destroy terrorist training cells," McGee continued. "The information after that gets murky; at some point Ahmed's wife and child were killed during a raid, and the four male relatives dropped off the radar, but there are no details as to exactly what happened." He stopped and raised an eyebrow at Ziva, "Although it appears Hazim has a continuing problem with the Director."

"Obviously," Ziva concurred. "Perhaps the death of the wife and child are what drove them to attack the Director's family."

"Do you think there's a chance that Hazim and Amir are still targeting Vance?" McGee asked.

Ziva considered, "Yes, for the family to have gone through so much trouble to plan and carry out this attack, I would say so, especially considering they did not achieve their goal. The death of the brothers could serve only to inflame their bloodlust. I just hope they do not decide to target Tony as well." She paused, considering their options, "I think it is time to talk to Director Vance." Her brown eyes blazed with indignation. "We need to find out what he knows about these people and why he did not provide us with more information prior to this attack."

"Do you think Vance knows more than what he's been telling us?" McGee questioned his partner.

"I believe he does. And the information he has been withholding might have cost Tony his life," she added angrily. "Let's go."

McGee swallowed. Watching Ziva storm toward the elevator, he hoped the Director was ready to provide them with some explanations. And he wondered how far Ziva would go to get to the truth.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance wasn't sure how to handle this situation. Just a few days ago DiNozzo had been annoying, abrasive, and at times an asshole—exactly how Vance expected him to be. DiNozzo was not the type of agent who Vance respected; he made inappropriate comments, played around too much and didn't hesitate to break rules when he deemed fit. At times he could be an outstanding investigator, but that had not been enough to ingratiate the man to him. Vance didn't want a team of investigators who were like the detectives of the past, he envisioned an agency of computer savvy technical experts, more like Agent McGee. And he certainly didn't need a smart mouthed playboy on the team.

But right now, DiNozzo was something else entirely. He was still listed in critical condition; barely able to hold his own head up and every breath was a rasping, wheezing struggle. The garroting had left him unable to swallow or speak above a painful whisper. A respiratory therapist constantly monitored for signs of pneumonia since he couldn't clear his lungs. And there were continued after effects of severe shock—a central line had been placed in his chest to provide ongoing fluids and to monitor blood oxygen levels. He was given a constant flow of oxygen, either through a mask or nasal cannula; and use of a ventilator had yet to be ruled out. To say the man looked pathetic was an understatement. He was in no shape to make a pass at any of the nurses even if she had been a former Victoria's Secret model.

And DiNozzo's injuries had all been sustained to protect _his _children, so they could walk away unharmed. Vance had always believed in first impressions and his ability to judge character. He had long ago made his judgment about Anthony DiNozzo. If it hadn't been for Gibb's insistence he would have never brought the man back from being Agent Afloat. Yet somehow, the agent he barely tolerated had been willing to sacrifice his own life to save Jared and Kayla.

DiNozzo was extremely upset with Vance, and had demanded the Director leave his room the night before. Vance had done as requested, going back to his children's room and letting Doctor Mallard stay with Tony. He was actually grateful for the reprieve, not sure how to act around a pitifully sick DiNozzo. But he had made a promise to his family to watch out for the critically injured man, and he was going to have to figure out how to get the younger agent to let him stay around. _"Maybe I'll just make it an order," _he thought. Trying to placate people was not in his nature. He had contacted Hetty about informing Gibbs of the incident, but they decided it would be best to wait until the undercover operation was over in another week. Breaking the drug smuggling ring Callen and Vance were investigating would be a feather in the cap of NCIS, and they didn't want to lose it. Surely Vance could help out with Tony until then.

Earlier in the morning, Jackie had brought Kayla and Jared to say thank you. Tony had been lying on his side to prevent further irritation to his back, but he had been awake. Kayla gave him a teddy bear she bought in the gift shop and presented it with a small kiss to his cheek. Jared hung back, frightened by the agent's appearance, but eventually shuffled over to say, "Get better, Tony, ok?" Jackie then kissed Tony on the forehead, and whispered softly in his ear, "Thank you, Tony. I can never repay you for what you've done for our family." Tony, still unable to speak, had weakly smiled his appreciation.

"You take good care of him," Jackie told her husband, staring long and hard to make her point, then left the room with their children and the protection detail in tow.

Later, Ducky and Vance had been asked to step from the room as the ICU nurses cleaned and dressed Tony's burns. It was a painful process that had to be completed daily in order to facilitate healing and avoid infection. Based on the look on Tony's face, Vance was sure the patient was going to try and get them to stop the procedure. But instead the young man had closed his eyes and gripped the sheets while the nurses began removing the bandages.

After the process was finished, Vance and Ducky were allowed to re-enter the room. Tony was still lying on his side, breathing harshly despite the nasal cannula in his nose; his brow was creased and his eyes were pinched closed. As Ducky walked closer, DiNozzo's eyes opened and he looked up bleakly. Tony had been in the hospital many times before, but he never recalled anything quite like this. What the nurses had just done to his back was akin to torture. He was cold and shivering despite the heavy blankets that covered him. Speaking was forbidden in order to give his throat time to heal. He was truly and utterly miserable.

"Anthony, are you in pain?" the ME asked with concern. He immediately noticed Tony's breathing was quick and shallow. Mallard knew that admitting to serious pain was not something the young man did easily, but there was no reason for him to suffer needlessly. Vance stepped closer to the bed as well, feeling a stab of guilt as he, too, witnessed the tremors and shudders racking the normally fit field agent. A sheen of sweat glistened on DiNozzo's face.

Tony didn't want to tell them he was beyond even his own high threshold for agony, especially with Vance still in the room. Ducky leaned in close to his friend, "Tony, if you are in pain, please be honest with me. In this situation, it does you no good to lie to us." Tony gave a glance at the Director, trying to make a decision. Choosing to let go of his pride just this once, Tony reluctantly gave a nod.

Mallard could see just how much the experience was costing Tony, and his heart went out to him as both a doctor and a friend. "On a scale of one to ten how bad is it? Can you tell me?" he asked gently.

Tony's eyes slowly closed and re-opened. His voice was barely audible, but the number he mouthed was unmistakable. "Ten," he finally said, watery green eyes peering up to meet the elderly doctor's. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Tony thought, _"Gibbs would have known."_ He glanced over at Vance, wondering again why the man was still here. It was the Director's fault things had gone to hell anyway; he needed to just let Tony be and go away for good.

"I'll find a doctor," Vance said quickly, noticing the dark and disgusted look Tony directed at him. He hurried from the room.

Mallard sat down next to Tony and gingerly patted the agent's hand, trying to comfort the young man he had come to care about very much. "We'll get this sorted out, my boy," he said softly.

The tenderness from the Medical Examiner made Tony feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. He had known Ducky for years, but it still didn't help him accept being cared for in such a personal way. It was part of the reason he hated being in the hospital and having to rely on everyone else to look after him.

"You know," Dr. Mallard added, "Jethro is going to be very upset when he finds out what has happened. I believe that Director Vance is already trying to contact him, but his undercover assignment is making him difficult to reach. But he will be back soon."

Tony regarded the ME warily. He was a grown man, and didn't always need Gibbs there to hold his hand. The current situation was pretty shitty, and right now if he had to rank it along with all his other medical experiences, it would come out as one of the worst. But Gibbs was undercover and had a job to do; he didn't need to be pulled out just to come play nurse to Tony. However, if Tony were honest with himself, he knew that Gibbs was the only person who didn't make him feel awkward when he was this vulnerable.

_"Let a psychologist figure that one out,"_ Tony thought. _"How come a man most people think is terrifying on a good day is the only person I want around when I'm sick and miserable?"_

Vance returned with the doctor, a strange look of concern on the Director's face. Vance's continued attention was perplexing; Tony expected him to be grateful, but at some point he really thought Vance would leave. Having the Director around all the time was disconcerting and annoying. He was still angry at the man for not revealing enough about the assignment and blamed him for the outcome. Vance was following in a long tradition of Directors who withheld information and tried to manipulate events.

But right now, Tony decided, he couldn't concentrate on that, because he was starting to feel nauseous to go along with the pain. The doctor had been talking to him, but he hadn't been listening; he forced his eyes to focus on the physician, careful not to move so as not to increase the agony flaring up inside him. His back was pulsing fire and his throat burned like acid had been poured in it. There was a constant pressure in his chest. The doctor was explaining how they could not give him very strong pain medication since it might depress his respiratory system. As the doctor moved to add something to the catheter in his chest, Tony silently prayed it would be enough to make the next few hours of his existence somewhat bearable.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Ziva and McGee found Vance in the ICU waiting room. Ziva noticed the darkness under his eyes from lack of sleep and stress. "How are your children, Director?" she asked.

"Fine," he said distractedly. "They were discharged this morning and left with my wife to a safe house until this is all settled." Noticing their nervousness, he asked, "Have you found out something about the attackers?"

"Yes," Ziva ventured. "We have identified them along with two other family members who are currently in the United States but unaccounted for. The two dead men were Ahmed and Khalid Aziz. The missing men are Amir Aziz and his father Hazim. I believe you know these men." She gave him a challenging look.

The Director pulled out a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. He considered what to tell them and, for once, settled on a close approximation of the truth. "Yes, I do. I had a working relationship with Hazim until I discovered he was actually a double agent who was feeding me false information. He was supposed to be helping identify terrorist training camps when in actuality he was running them. During an attack i ordered on one of these camps Ahmed's wife and child were killed and the family blamed me." He smiled grimly, "Of course, they vowed revenge. I was actually hoping it was forgotten until Hazim turned up in the US a few weeks ago. When he was spotted in DC, I arranaged the protection of my family."

"Why didn't you tell us about these people before?" McGee asked sharply. Ziva glanced at her partner's outburst with surprise. "We could have been looking for them, maybe prevented what happened at your house! Maybe Tony wouldn't be lying in there suffering right now!" The junior agent stepped close to Vance's face, for a moment forgetting he was talking to the Director of NCIS. "Sir," he added quickly, hoping he wasn't about to be fired.

"I didn't think the information was pertinent to your protection duty, Agent McGee. It was my call, and I still don't think it would have made a difference. What matters now is finding Hazim and his son before they can try anything else," he said tersely. "It wouldn't surprise me if they make an attempt on DiNozzo, now. Hazim was very close to his sons, and the man will be devastated by Ahmed and Khalid's deaths. Our main priority at this time is apprehending them before something else happens."

Ziva was still not pleased with the Director's handling of the situation, but she tried to maintain a neutral demeanor. "Do you want us to order guards for Tony's room?" she asked cooly.

"Immediately," the Director responded with his usual air of authority. He was not about to let the agents make him reveal any self-doubt.

"And what about you? Will you have a protection detail?" she continued.

"I plan on staying here until DiNozzo is moved out of ICU. The guards you bring in for him will suffice for me, too. If I go anywhere I'll take one of them, or one of you, with me," he stated. "Will that work for you, Agent David? Agent McGee?"

Ziva looked towards Tony's room, worry apparent on her normally placid features. "That should be fine, Director," she said. "Unless there is more you are not telling us," she added with scorn.

Vance assessed her calmly, "There is nothing else, Agent David. I've told you everything regarding this matter."

Ziva nodded, "I truly hope so. I am going to visit Tony now. Are you coming McGee?"

"Yeah, Ziva, sure," he followed behind her, casting a doubting look at the Director. Despite their respectful behavior, both seemed to be holding back what they really wanted to say.

As he watched them go, the Director was certain that right now he was one of the last people either agent trusted. And for the first time since becoming Director of NCIS, he questioned whether he was actually worthy of the title.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony felt something soft brush against his cheek. It caressed and tickled him at the same time, a pleasant and relaxing feeling. He didn't want the person stroking his cheek to stop, he wanted her to stay with him.

_"Why can't I go to school today, Mommy?" Tony asked._

_"Because, honey, you have a fever and you can't go to school when you're sick. You'll just have to stay here with me," she smiled and brushed back his unruly hair._

_"I really don't feel too good," he admitted._

_"I know. The doctor said you'll need to rest for a few days. Then you can go back to school," she said, rubbing his pink-tinged cheek with her thumb._

_"Will you sing to me?" he asked, looking at her with bright green eyes._

_She sang a lullabye he liked when he was smaller. He closed his eyes and let his hand rest in hers._

_"Can you stay all day?" he asked._

_"Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't leave until you feel better," she said softly. "I love you, Tony."_

_"I love you, too, Mommy," he answered._

_Her long, dark hair brushed across his cheek as she kissed his heated forehead._

Ziva had been singing to Tony while he dozed. She stopped and leaned closer, her hair falling across his face, as he mumbled something quietly. Her heart clinched when she made out the words, "I love you," then the additional "Mom."

She sighed, realizing Tony must be dreaming about his mother. It seemed to be a peaceful dream, which made her glad. She did not like to see Tony in this condition; she much preferred the brash and obnoxious man who sat across from her in the bullpen.

Even though the doctors assured them he would recover in time, Ziva still worried about her partner. Her feelings for Tony were confusing and complicated; she could not begin to identify what they were. But she did know that having him somewhere in her life was essential, so he had to recover.

When he did not wake, she began to sing softly again, and to caress his cheek with her thumb.

McGee cleared his throat as he walked back into the room with two cups of coffee. Seeing Tony like this made him nervous, so he had jumped at the excuse to leave. "Any change?" the junior agent asked.

"Not yet," Ziva replied, anxiety clear in her voice. _"You have to survive," _she said once more silently, gazing at her partner's still form.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The next two days passed in a blur for Tony. He didn't really sleep, with doctors and nurses checking on him every fifteen minutes or so. Because the pulmonary contusion had made his breathing so labored, the trauma physicians continued to limit medication for the pain, so it never really left. Most people probably had no idea how many times each minute they swallowed or took a breath. It wasn't until those two acts brought intense misery that Tony realized both reflexes happened every few seconds. The lack of sleep, inability to breath, and never ending agony left him totally exhausted.

Neither Ducky, and for some reason Vance, had left his side for the last forty-eight hours. He really wished Vance would go, because he didn't want the man's pity, which was the only explanation he had for why the Director wouldn't leave. McGee, Ziva, Ducky, and Abby had all been there on a rotational basis, trying to offer him as much comfort as possible. He still couldn't speak above a choked whisper, and swallowing was an ordeal. Earlier in the day he had been introduced to a nasogastric tube, which allowed for "liquid nourishment" since it was impossible for him to eat. Even though the tube was small, it had been one more irritation to his already injured throat. Tony was a strong man, and had never considered the possible consequences when he chose to protect Kayla and Jared, but even he could tell that he wasn't getting much better. Yet whenever Tony reached a point he didn't think he could endure any more, he looked at Kayla's bear sitting on the night stand by the bed, and reminded himself that if it meant neither child had to suffer, it was all worth it. _"It was all worth it,"_ he repeated, shifting miserably and trying to ignore his ongoing torment.

From a chair across the room, Vance observed the young man wince and gasp, and tried to convince himself this wasn't all his fault.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

That night, after sending Doctor Mallard home to rest, Vance once again found himself feeding DiNozzo ice chips. It was a twilight zone scenario. Neither man had ever considered the other a friend, and the current situation was so intimate and awkward that it was uncomfortable for them both. But each time Vance looked at Tony's battered body he knew he was indebted to the agent for what he had sacrificed. So he dealt with the awkwardness. Tony, on the other hand, still looked at the Director with a mixture of suspicion, fear, and outright anger. He didn't want to be alone, but having Vance there wasn't much better.

Tony had been drifting in and out of sleep, trying to rest but never able to find a comfortable position. The lights had been dimmed making it difficult to see; noticing the figure in the chair, he said hopefully, "Gibbs? _God, it hurt to talk," _he remembered.

The figure stood and approached him, placing a hand on his sweaty forehead, "No, Tony, Gibbs isn't here."

"Oh," he replied, squinting in the darkness. _Vance._ He knew that Gibbs wasn't here, so why did he even ask? Everything seemed to swim in and out of focus. Had they given him more pain meds? Did he have a fever? What was wrong with him now?

Tony hated the fact Vance was seeing him in this weakened state, and decided he had finally had enough. Forcing his airway and vocal chords to cooperate, Tony whispered, "You should go."

Vance regarded him suspiciously, "I don't think so, DiNozzo, you don't need to be by yourself."

Tony shook his head, "Plenty of staff to keep me company." He stopped, took a shallow breath, found his raspy voice again, "We both know this is a joke. You don't even like me. Sent me away. Didn't want me back on the team." He stopped again, his throat burning from the effort to say so many words at once. Closing his eyes against the discomfort, he went on, "I don't need your pity, so just…."

Tony felt the impulse to swallow, which he knew wasn't a good idea. Before he could stop himself, his throat constricted and he started to choke again; Vance immediately forced Tony upright while the young man's chest started to hitch and wheeze. He held onto the struggling agent while the situation quickly spiraled out of control, the involuntary twitching in Tony's throat leading to spasms in his damaged lungs. Tony didn't want to be helped by Vance, he hated it, but with no strength of his own, he leaned heavily against the older man, having no choice but to accept his assistance. Tony couldn't hide the pain and fear apparent in his eyes while he coughed and gasped. As several nurses and a respiratory therapist entered, Tony was shaking and sweating from exertion. The specialist confirmed that his oxygen levels had dropped dangerously low. It was decided the bi-pap machine, a tight-fitting external ventilator mask, would be used until the suffocating man's breathing was stabilized. By the time the mask was fitted in place Tony didn't care what they did as long as he could breathe again.

Since the bi-pap was now forcing air into his lungs, Tony was given a mild sedative to calm him some, and he restlessly drifted off. Vance, seated once again in the hard plastic chair by DiNozzo's bed, watched as the Senior Field Agent's face betrayed his agitation, even in the drug-induced sleep. _"Did I really cause this?"_ he questioned. _"Should I have told them all the details of the operation? Would that have prevented this from happening?" _As he listened to the hiss-release of the ventilator and watched Tony's chest painfully being forced up and down, he knew that in DiNozzo's position he would have been angry, too.

As the last nurse finished checking the patient's vitals, she glanced over at the Director, "Who has he been looking for?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Vance inquired, not sure what she talking about.

"Well, every time Tony wakes up he scans the room like he's looking for someone. Is there a loved one who hasn't visited yet? Maybe a parent?" she wondered.

Vance was quiet. Tony had not once asked where Gibbs was or even if he was coming. The only time he had mentioned Gibb's name was when he awakened disoriented. It occurred to Vance that even if Tony wanted the Lead Agent there, he would probably never risk his pride to ask for him, especially not since Tony knew Gibbs was on assignment. He sighed, realizing his own foolishness for not contacting Tony's mentor sooner. "Yes, there is," he told the nurse. "We haven't been able to reach him yet."

The nurse pulled a thick blanket over DiNozzo's shivering form, "I hope whoever it is comes soon. Maybe he could help Tony fight a little harder. He's still got a long way to go."

Vance exhaled, _"And it's time I made it a little easier for him."_

As she left, the Director walked out into the hall and started making calls.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs was drinking coffee in the mess area of the _USS Roosevelt. _He had been undercover for two weeks and felt confident the drug smuggling ring he was investigating would crack in the next few days. The assignment had been tough, but kind of fun, and it had been good to work with Callen again. The LA agent was undercover as a cook on the ship, and had managed to get several of the key suspects to confide in him. They were hoping Callen was going to be asked to join the smugglers tonight. Gibbs grinned; the younger man really was a good undercover agent.

He wondered how things were going back in DC. Gibbs almost laughed aloud thinking about McGee and Ziva under Tony's command. He imagined there were a lot of campfires going on. Gibbs knew Tony would do a good job as Team Leader, and he thought McGee and Ziva needed to see Tony in charge every now and then. It was part of the reason he had taken the undercover assignment.

"Sir?" an ensign interrupted him. "You're requested in the Captain's quarters."

_"That's strange," _thought Gibbs. "Thank you, ensign," he replied, leaving behind his coffee and heading for the upper deck. His gut began to churn.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs ran into Callen outside the Captain's door. "You, too?" Callen asked.

"Yep," Gibbs said. "Let's see what's going on."

As they entered the Captain's quarters, the uniformed man sighed in frustration.

"Agent Gibbs, a helicopter is awaiting you on deck. You are being pulled out of this assignment immediately," he explained, clearly irritated.

Gibb's gut flipped. This was not good. "Why?" he asked.

"I'm not really sure, but from what I was told there was an incident in DC and you are needed back there immediately," he continued. "Director Vance will fill you in as soon as possible."

The Lead Agent glanced over at Callen. "You'll have to take care of the operation," he informed the other agent. "Everything is in place. You should be fine."

"But Gibbs," Callen argued. "We're almost ready to break this group wide open. I need you here to do that. We might lose the entire case if you go now."

Gibbs listened to the younger man's argument, "I'll make sure you get some backup," he said. "For Vance to take me out now, something big must have happened." His gut flopped forbiddingly. "Be careful, ok?"

Callen watched as Gibbs walked away, wondering what the hell just happened.

As he boarded the helicopter, Gibb's gut continued to gnaw at him. Vance better not have let something happen to his team.

"_If anyone's been hurt,"_ Gibbs thought, _"there will be hell to pay."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note: **Gibb's returns! For those who have requested Gibbs dispose of or maim the Director, just remember if he did either of those things, the story would be over!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the supportive reviews! Last night I worked late and was mentally exhausted, but because so many of you let me know you were enjoying the story, I pulled myself together and got this ready for today. As always, I hope you like it! Remember, I have no medical knowledge so forgive any glaring mistakes and excuse my potty mouth at the end of the chapter, I'm just channeling what I think Tony would say in the situation.

Continue to review—I _love _to hear from you!

FanFiction readers are the best!

TH

"Abby Scuito and Jimmy Palmer to see Anthony DiNozzo," the Goth announced to the nurse at the ICU desk. The nurse glanced up to take in Abby's black ponytails, dark lipstick, skull and crossbones t-shirt, plaid miniskirt, and platform shoes. Not exactly who she expected to visit the attractive young man in Room 212. She decided to check the list of approved visitors supplied by Director Vance, and quickly found both names. The young lady looked nice, despite the unusual outfit, so the nurse decided to forgo being judgmental especially since Tony needed some friends right now. The young man with the glasses smiled at her pleasantly.

"I see you are both on the approved list, so I'll take you right over," she said, returning Palmer's smile. "Tony's had a bit of a rough night and he hasn't been sleeping very well, so the only thing we ask is not to disturb him if he's resting."

Abby frowned, clearly worried, "How is he doing? Is he going to be out of ICU soon?"

The nurse hesitated, "Tony is having a difficult time speaking and swallowing due to dysphagia in his throat. Both conditions should resolve over time, but it could take several weeks for the traumatized tissues and muscles to recover. He's also still experiencing respiratory issues as a result of the bruising to his lungs, and the burn on his back is continuing to require treatment. So I'm afraid he's going to be with us a little while longer." She supplied a sympathetic look, "But barring any complications he should be fine in a few weeks."

Abby and Palmer exchanged glances. "If there are complications, Tony can usually find them," Abby explained apologetically.

"Oh, just a minute," the nurse walked back to the desk, "this was sent for Tony a few hours ago. We can take it in for him." She picked up a small stuffed Brutus the Buckeye. A Get Well card was attached and signed by one of his fraternity brothers.

"Tony will love it," Abby grinned, following the nurse past the guards and into the agent's room.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony was lying quietly, listening to Abby and Palmer discuss whether or not the autopsy assistant should get a real tattoo. Abby was all for the idea, but Jimmy was not quite convinced. Since Tony was concentrating on not moving, he didn't have an opinion. A nurse had cleaned and re-bandaged his burn, which was an excruciating process that left him tired and feverish. He had learned that burn victims need to be kept hydrated and were not allowed to get cold, which explained the continual IV bags and warming lights she had brought in today. He was also covered in a thick blanket.

Vance had stayed while they cleaned the wound, watching silently with his arms folded. Tony had wanted him to go, but the Director refused to listen, treating Tony as if he had no free will to choose what he wanted. Even in his pain and drug-induced haze, Vance was really pissing him off. Vance had spent most of his time as Director looking down his nose at Tony, and the field agent resented how the older man expected him to forget it all ever happened. Tony was not in a very forgiving mood right now. The young man had been grateful when Abby and Palmer arrived, since Vance took their visit as an opportunity to go to MTAC for a few hours. _"Anything to get rid of him,"_ Tony thought sullenly.

The soft cocoon of warmth the nurses had wrapped Tony in, combined with a small dose of pain medication, made him drowsy, but not enough to sleep. He was always uncomfortable, and the coughing and wheezing were never gone long. The cut on his throat ached with every tiny attempt to swallow. Abby sensed his discomfort and walked to the bed, placing her hand on his clammy brow. "Is there anything I can get for you, Tony?" the pretty Goth asked, concern for her friend in her voice. She knew that Tony, even in his current state, would hesitate to ask for help unless he was forced to do so. She bent down close to him and tried to lighten his disposition, "I'll do whatever you ask me to, within reason." She grinned supportively and a little mischievously. "_Anything to get just a little hint of the DiNozzo smile," _she thought_._

Tony considered for a moment and slightly shook his head no. He didn't feel up to talking right now, not even to Abby. The Goth frowned at her failure to cheer her dejected friend. _"He really needs Gibbs right now, whether he admits it or not," _she decided sadly. If the Boss didn't get there soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She sat down on the bed next to Tony and started rubbing his arm distractedly.

Palmer walked to the bedside table and picked up the stuffed mascot. "So, Tony, how do you think your frat brother found out you were in here? After the explosion, names weren't released on the news or anything," he questioned. "You know, this little guy is a lot heavier than he looks. It feels like it has a lead weight in it." Palmer frowned, curious. "You think that's to keep it from falling over?"

Even Tony's addled brain thought that was odd. Abby took the scarlet and grey doll from Palmer and examined it more closely. "It is heavy, and its belly is shaped weird, kind of distorted. Is it supposed to look like this?" Abby held the mascot out for Tony to see.

It took a few moments, but the Senior Field Agent's mind finally made the correct connections. He started to breathe rapidly as he whispered to Abby, "Tear it open." He was trying to sit up. The pain receptors were objecting.

"What?" she asked, puzzled by his reaction. "Tony, do you need a doctor?" His pained expression had her frightened.

"Open it," he repeated, staring at Palmer now. "Bomb."

Palmer grabbed the doll back from Abby and quickly tore the seams in its stomach. His eyes widened at the small but potentially deadly explosive lodged inside.

"Oh my God, Abby, what do we do?" Palmer asked, panicked.

Abby was frozen in place. The counter showed four minutes, twelve seconds, and kept ticking downward. There was no time to diffuse it, no safe place to dispose of it that wouldn't harm people.

Palmer cast a fearful look at Tony, hoping the injured agent could provide an answer. Tony made the only suggestion he could think of; in a hoarse voice he said, "Run."

Palmer hesitated for only a second, then tore out of the room at break-neck speed. They were only on the second floor, and as he hit the door to the stairwell he was already thinking of a deserted area to toss the device. Slamming into another door, he nearly knocked over an elderly man, calling out, "Sorry," over his shoulder as he continued to sprint toward the back of the hospital. People jumped out of his way, some cursed at him, but most just stared at the skinny young man tearing through the hallway holding a stuffed toy in front of him. He overturned a cart of cleaning supplies and jumped over a wet floor sign as he finally collided with the back exit and burst out into sunlight. A quick glance at the bomb showed forty seconds---seeing a dumpster, Palmer ran a few feet closer and heaved, turning around and covering his head as heat and garbage exploded into the air. Standing up, glasses askew, Palmer sighed. They were safe.

_NCISNCISNCIS _

By the time Gibbs arrived at Bethesda he was enraged. All he could find out from the NCIS dispatcher was there had been an explosion at Vance's house and DiNozzo was in the hospital. None of the team had answered their cell phones and he was damn near ready to rip someone's head off.

Stepping through the hospital doors, he was immediately aware that something was wrong. Police were everywhere. Every person coming through the entrance was being scrutinized. As he walked to the front desk and asked for Anthony DiNozzo's room, he was swarmed by several armed agents. Showing his identification, the Lead Agent was informed that Director Vance was waiting for him.

Walking into the ICU waiting room, Gibbs first saw McGee and Ducky asleep in lounge chairs. Vance was staring out the window. "Bout time you got here," the Director said without turning around.

Gibb's voice was low and dangerous, "What happened, Leon?"

Vance faced him, "DiNozzo was helping protect my family from a terrorist threat. Two guys made it in, held him and my children hostage. There was a bomb, DiNozzo managed to shield Kayla and Jared but took most of the blast himself. He was pretty badly injured."

"How long ago?" Gibbs asked quietly, blue eyes staring through the Director.

"Three days," Vance answered. "Hetty said your operation would be over at the end of the week; I thought we could wait and tell you then. But, DiNozzo…."

"DiNozzo what?" Gibbs demanded. "Almost died? And you waited _three days_ to tell me!" Before he could stop himself, the Lead Agent grabbed the front of the Director's shirt in his fist and backed Vance into the wall. The Director grunted slightly as his head connected with the hard surface he was forcefully thrust against. "What the hell kind of game are you playing, Leon? Did it even occur to you that he might _die _before you ever decided to let me know what happened?" Gibb's tightly clenched fist was itching to smash into the Director's stunned face.

Vance took a deep breath. "Calm down, Agent Gibbs, before you make a mistake that we'll both regret," the Director said tensely. "Maybe not telling you sooner was an error, but you're here now and DiNozzo needs you with him, not in a jail cell for assault." He forced himself to gaze steadily into the heated blue eyes.

Gibbs blinked a few times, hesitated, then shoved Vance into the wall again before letting go of the Director's shirt. Still feeling the need to lash out at something, he kicked a chair across the room. It landed noisily near McGee, who jerked upright and fell into the floor with a confused expression. Ducky also woke up, taking in the scene before him. He immediately observed Gibbs who was storming around the waiting area in a barely controlled rage. "I can tell there's more to this than you're sharing, Leon. Why all the cops?" the ex-marine finally asked angrily.

"Someone sent a bomb to DiNozzo's room. Abby and Palmer discovered it, and Palmer……disposed of the explosive before anyone was hurt. We think the terrorists are now targeting Agent DiNozzo, as well," Vance stated factually. Dealing with Gibbs in this mood was like handling a baited bear, but the Director drew himself up tall and refused to be cowed by the angry man. McGee got up off the floor and watched the situation unfold nervously. He glanced at Dr. Mallard with a slight look of desperation.

"Jethro," the ME said, stepping forward to try and diffuse the volatile scene, "getting thrown out of the hospital before you see Anthony will not be helpful to the young man. Please, let's all settle down and work this out later." He calmly touched his old friend's arm.

Gibbs ran a hand through his silver hair and faced Vance again, "I know you don't give a shit about Tony, but I do." The agent stepped in close to Vance and lowered his voice. "I intend to get to the bottom of this, Leon, and you better damn well hope I don't find you staring back at me."

The Director rubbed the back of his head, but chose not to reply. This conversation was definitely not over.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs smiled sadly at the sight that greeted him in Tony's room. Abby and Ziva were curled into small chairs, both asleep. Palmer was wrapped in a sheet and stretched out on the floor between them with a small pillow under his head.

"None of them would leave," Vance said softly, brave enough to speak to the irate agent. "Even when I ordered them to go, they just looked at me and politely refused." He shook his head seemingly unable to understand this group of people.

Gibbs was looking at Tony. Someone had used pillows to prop him on his side. Tubes were peaking out from underneath his gown, attached to a variety of bags hanging around the bed. Leads and wires connected the unmoving patient to various monitors that beeped softly, ready to alert the staff of any immediate danger. A large and bulky oxygen mask was strapped to his drawn and shadowed face. When Gibbs had left just a few weeks ago, the Senior Field Agent had been tanned and muscular. Now he was pale, gaunt, and frail. Gibbs gave Vance a murderous stare.

Abby stirred, nearly falling out of the tiny chair she had crammed her long body into. Opening her eyes, she squeaked, "Gibbs! You're back!" In seconds, she had launched herself out of the chair and was wrapped around Gibb's neck. "Tony needs you so bad, Gibbs, he isn't getting any better and I don't know what else to do for him," she was almost in tears.

"Hey, hey," the older man soothed, rubbing her dark hair, "it'll be alright. You know Tony, he just has to do things in his own time."

Abby sniffled and met his crinkled blue eyes, "I'm so glad you're here." She laid her head on his shoulder taking in the soothing scent of soap and Old Spice.

The sounds woke Ziva and Palmer, both of them sitting up and stretching. Palmer wiped the sleep from his eyes before putting his glasses back on. Ziva stood, cast a lingering glance at Tony, and walked over to Gibbs.

"We were afraid to leave after the bomb incident this afternoon," she explained. "Tony was having breathing difficulties, and we just…..stayed." She made it a point to look at Vance, who returned her gaze with practiced indifference.

"Let's go out in the hall," Gibbs said, leading the exhausted agents out of the room.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

A short time later, the Lead Agent had convinced the rest of his team to go home for some sleep, since he planned to stay at the hospital anyway. He also took time to praise Palmer for his brave act that afternoon, getting a shy smile and a, "Thanks, Gibbs," from the nervous autopsy assistant. Vance once again refused to leave, but agreed to stay in the waiting area while Gibbs went back to sit with Tony.

The ex-marine pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down. In only a few minutes, two cloudy green eyes were staring at him. Tony reached up shakily and pulled the mask loose. "I know you're not here," he said softly.

Tilting his head to the side, Gibbs couldn't help but laugh, "Do you always talk to your hallucinations, DiNozzo?"

"You're not here. Undercover," Tony repeated in barely a whisper, shaking his head again. His eyes were going closed.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs lightly popped Tony on top of the head. "Was that real?"

Tony's eyes widened. "Boss?" he asked shakily. "Is it you?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo, it's me. What'd get yourself into this time?" the older man questioned.

Tony shook his head a little and coughed. "Had to do it. What you would've done," he replied.

"Is that how you make all your decisions? Based on what I would've done?" the Lead Agent asked with affection.

Tony gave a small grin. "Only the ones that don't involve women," he managed to gasp out.

"Well, you did good this time. Real good," Gibbs praised with a smile and ruffling of Tony's hair. "Now, listen, Tony, I need you to do something for me. You listening?"

"Yeah, I'm listening," came the soft reply.

"I'm going to sit here and read my paper and drink this coffee, and I want you to go to sleep. And none of this half-awake crap the doctor tells me you've been doing. No one's gonna bother you, I got you're six. So just rest, ok?" Gibbs demanded gently.

Tony was really tired. He thought he might be able to finally get some uninterrupted sleep knowing Gibbs was hanging around. "On it, boss," he replied thinly. Then his eyes blinked open fully. "Thanks," he added, a multitide of unsaid feelings conveyed in the one simple word. The older agent smiled and carefully replaced the mask. He and DiNozzo didn't say much, but they understood each other perfectly. In a few minutes, Tony's eyes were closed, his face and body appearing relaxed for the first time in days.

Gibbs took a drink of his coffee and settled back to contemplate the murder of several terrorists and possibly the Director of NCIS.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Abby, Ziva, and McGee returned later that morning. Abby had spent most of the night in the lab, despite Gibb's order to go home. She slurped a Caf-Pow and bounced on her toes. "We got a print off of Brutus' remains," she explained. "It was a partial of a known terrorist named Amir Aziz."

McGee and Ziva shot glances at Vance. "Aziz?" Gibbs asked. "The family responsible for half the terrorist training camps in Afghanistan and several cells here in the US? Why are they involved?"

Vance repeated what he had already shared with the other two agents. "Couldn't you have been a little more proactive on this, Director?" Gibbs growled at him, fists clinching again. "If we had known you were being targeted, maybe we could have tracked them down before they started attacking you." He shook his head in frustration. Of all the Director's he had worked for, none ever ceased to amaze him with their ignorance. Turning to McGee and Ziva, he said, "Get back to the office; issue BOLO's on Amir and his father. Run down any leads you can find on their current location."

As the two agents turned to leave, Gibbs called after them, "Watch your backs. And call in every two hours."

"Got it, Boss," McGee replied, wondering if the Director had noticed the gleam of anger in the blue eyes.

Gibbs turned back to face Vance. "You don't have to stay here, Leon. I'll take care of Tony now, your presence isn't necessary," he managed to keep his tone neutral, but dismissive. Looking at Vance every five minutes just reminded him of how much he wanted to kill the man.

Vance met the Lead Agent's gaze dead on. He hadn't become NCIS Director by being a wilting violet. "I know you and your team hold me responsible for what's happening. And maybe to some degree I am. But regardless of my issues with DiNozzo in the past, what he did for my family made him my responsibility, too. And I don't intend to run out at the very moment his life is in danger. I plan to see this through whether you like it or not." Vance explained. "So you better get used to it, Agent Gibbs. This is a team operation, now."

Gibbs smirked, "Most days, Leon, you'd be lucky to play second string for my team. You see, people on my team don't withhold important information until it's too late and we watch out for each other. Things you don't know much about. But since you insist on being part of _my _team, we'll see if you can keep up." He crushed his coffee cup and threw it in the trash before heading back to Tony's room.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Several days later, there were still no signs of Amir and Hazim Aziz. They had taken to ground and left no trail behind. The agents were getting frustrated at the lack of progress.

Tony had finally started to improve. His breathing was somewhat better and he no longer required the bi-pap at night, although they were making him stay on oxygen by nasal cannula to help with the frequent wheezing and coughing attacks. It would be several weeks before the pulmonary contusion completely healed and until then there was an increased risk of pneumonia or lung infections. The wound on his neck was improving, and he had graduated from tube feeding to pureed milkshakes, which he said tasted like pureed crap. The burned area on his back still required the agonizing daily cleaning and antibiotic treatment, but otherwise the pain had dulled to a constantly throbbing ache. So, despite the fact he was weak and tired, Tony decided he might one day feel like his old self again. They were even discussing letting him out of ICU in a day or two. In Tony's mind, that meant he should be going home soon.

However, the sight of the two orderlies waiting to assist him to the bathroom was not the highlight of his day. Tony hated being frail in front of others, and the fact he could barely stand on his own two feet was the height of embarrassment.

"Come on, DiNozzo, if you ever want to get out of here you got to start walking," Gibbs chided. "Doctor's orders."

After so many days in bed, that was easier said than done. He eyed the orderlies suspiciously. "I can do this on my own," he said petulantly, wincing at the continued burning in his throat and hoarse sound of his own voice. _"Dammit,"_ he thought. _"I am so sick of this."_

"Sure you can," Gibbs agreed. "These nice young men are just going to stick around in case you fall on your ass."

Tony's stare told Gibbs to shut up and maybe a few other choice words, but he silently allowed the orderlies to ease him from the bed and hold his arms as he stood. As the fluids in his body re-aligned themselves to the now unusual upright position, Tony swayed and teetered, his head swimming and his muscles turning to jelly. "Oh," he groaned despite his desire to maintain his dignity.

Gibbs pretended to ignore his friend and continue to read the paper, but he was very aware of the slow and painful struggle for Tony to cross the floor and back. Had the orderlies not been there the young man would have never made it more than a few steps. By the time Tony was tucked safely back in bed and the monitors were re-connected, he was sweating profusely and appeared like he might throw up.

"You ok?" Gibbs asked, offering him some water, which Tony drank slowly, concentrating on swallowing and not gagging.

"This sucks," the younger man said, staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I know," Gibbs agreed. "Why don't you take a nap? I have a feeling you're going to be making that trip every few hours and you might as well rest up for the next one. I'll call the office to check in with McGee and Ziva, then I'll see if the Director is still lurking around here somewhere. I'm sure he still wants to keep you company."

"Great," Tony replied sarcastically, already falling asleep. The short walk had left him exhausted. Gibbs stayed until he was sure Tony was resting easily, then quietly slipped from the room.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The swarthy man dressed in a doctor's coat and scrubs watched the silver-haired agent leave, ready to take advantage of the opportunity to get the younger man alone. DiNozzo's death would teach them the terrible price to be paid for harming his family. Wasting no time, he approached the guards standing outside the federal agent's door.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "I need your help. I noticed someone acting suspiciously near the supply closet. I didn't recognize the man, although he said he was with the janitorial service. I think he might have been trying to sneak something into the closet. After the incident with the bomb I thought it was best to be safe. Could one of you check it out for me?"

The guards glanced at one another, "You go, Mark," said the taller agent, "I'll stay here. We wouldn't want to let another explosive get by us."

"Ok," Mark replied. The guard who was on duty the night of the bombing was still on indefinite suspension.

The 'doctor' followed Mark to the supply room. A few minutes later, the 'doctor' left alone. He walked up to the remaining guard and disarmingly smiled.

"Mark needs…" he began, stepping close to the man, while at the same time slipping a needle into the back of the guard's neck.

The agent's eyes grew wide, then he slid down into the swarthy man's grip. A quick trip down the hall and the guard was lying in the floor of an unused storage area.

Grinning ferally, the dark-skinned man quietly opened the door of DiNozzo's room. _"This is going to be easy," _he said to himself with anticipation.

The door shut with a soft click, causing Tony to stir.

"Boss?" he asked sleepily. "You back already?"

DiNozzo squinted his eyes when he did not receive an answer. The figure who was propping a chair under the door and closing the curtains was definitely not his boss.

"Fuck," Tony swore under his breath, wondering what he was going to do now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note:** Our poor Tony just can't seem to stay out of trouble. But I try to keep him the same strong person we love, despite his current physical limitations! Papa Gibbs has his hands full! The setting changes in this chapter, which I tried to keep as realistic as possible, although I realize this probably wouldn't happen in real life (that is why I prefer imaginary worlds). If necessary, suspend disbelief, since it wouldn't be nearly as fun to set the whole story in a hospital!

Thanks for the helpful, awesome, supportive reviews. If you are enjoying, keep reviewing! We have three more chapters to go, and I promise some interesting developments.

**TH**

Gibbs clicked the phone shut. Ziva and McGee had yet to turn up any leads on Amir or Hazim Aziz. The Lead Agent instructed them to contact Fornell to find out if the FBI had any potential training cells under observation. At this point, with no ideas, they were getting desperate; another attempt on either Tony or Vance could come at any time.

Gibbs found Vance sitting in the waiting area finishing his own phone conversation. "Yes, Jackie, I'm fine. Tony's doing better," he paused, listening. "Tell the kids I miss them. Yes. I love you, too."

He looked up at Gibbs. "Everything ok?" he asked. Gibbs considered, was everything ok?

"Tony seems to be holding his own," the Lead Agent answered; something was niggling at his senses.

Vance stood, "I've been thinking about our next move," he began, but stopped as Gibbs turned and walked away. "Where are you going?" the Director asked shaking his head at the other man's eccentricity.

Gibbs walked back toward Tony's room. What was bothering him? Glancing down the hallway at the closed door to 212, it hit him……._no guards._

He tossed his coffee cup down on the floor and rushed toward the door. "What is it?" Vance called, following after him.

"No guards!" Gibbs yelled, throwing himself at the door, which shook but didn't budge. "Tony! Tony, are you all right?" he called out, but received no answer. "Someone get this damn door open!" he roared, shoving against the obstruction again.

_"What the hell is happening now?" _the silver-haired agent thought frantically.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony pressed the call button on the side of the bed, not expecting the action was going to help much. By the time someone broke through the door he would most likely be dead. As the dark figure approached him, DiNozzo knew he only had one chance to save himself. He had to maintain the element of surprise, and then pray for enough strength to do what was needed. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he wasn't afraid, just intensely focused on trying to stay alive.

Through slitted eyes Tony watched as the dark-haired man walked slowly across the room toward him. Leaning over the bed, the intruder removed a hypodermic needle from his coat pocket. _"That can't be good,"_ Tony thought warily. Taking the lid off, the unknown assailant squirted a little of the liquid, and smiled. "Do you know who I am?" he asked softly. "My name is Amir Aziz, and I am the brother of the men you helped kill. I am here to show you and Director Vance that your actions will not go unpunished. You will die as an example to them all."

Tony mumbled something, and Amir leaned closer to hear the agent's incoherent words. Amir wanted the federal agent to know who it was that killed him and why. It would add to his feeling of vindication. Without warning, Tony used every ounce of strength he could find to jam the base of his hand straight into the bottom of the man's nose, slightly shoving it upwards. Blood spewed everywhere, splashing onto Tony's face and the white linens. Tony, drenched in sweat, observed his assailant to see if his feeble blow slowed the man at all. Amir stumbled back in shock and pain, mewling like a wounded animal while blood poured from his nose and across his fingers. The hypodermic needle fell from his grasp and skittered across the floor.

Tony could hear someone shouting outside the room and banging on the door, but he had little time to wait on them. Amir was grinning wildly at him, blood from his nose staining his mouth and teeth like something from a horror movie. Frantically, Tony grabbed at any tube he could find and ripped them loose from his body, ignoring the pain and blood from the puncture sights. He slipped from the bed, trying to stand on legs that refused to support him. Limply, he slid to the cold ground. _"Dammit,"_ he cursed his weakened body. The world spun and tilted.

Tony's futile punch had barely effected the terrorist, despite the impressive amount of blood. Amir quickly regained his senses to see his prey lying helpless in the floor; the intent to kill scorched across the assassin's features. Within a few feet of his spot on the floor, Tony noticed the dropped syringe. The federal agent stretched his arm out and grasped the needle, turning just as Amir bent to grab him. Tony shoved the syringe into the man's thigh, pushing hard on the plunger.

Amir stared down at the object protruding from his leg. Pulling the needle from his thigh, Amir laughed hysterically, blood dripping from his mouth. "Nothing will stop me from killing you now!" he growled out, grabbing Tony around his injured neck, ready to choke the agent to death with his bare hands.

Sharp pain tore through Tony's neck and he gasped, feeling the weight of Amir bearing down on him, but unable to move. The world quickly started fading from grey to black, as once again DiNozzo experienced the crushing agony of suffocation.

A loud crack sounded through the room, and suddenly Tony once more could pull air into his starving lungs. Amir's weight fell down on him, as a warm and sticky wetness spread across DiNozzo's chest. Blinking rapidly, Tony tried to weakly shove the man off him with no success. Gibbs, Sig in hand, was quickly leaning next to him, saying something Tony couldn't quite make out.

As the adrenaline wore off, DiNozzo was starting to shake, and he could feel his uncooperative lungs begin to wheeze rapidly. His damaged body was unprepared to deal with this latest shock. Just as he felt himself losing control, Amir's now dead body was lifted off him, and then Gibbs was easing the injured agent into a sitting position, telling him to not to get too excited.

"Guess you won't get to interrogate this guy, either," Tony gasped, looking into the worried blue eyes. "Sorry, Boss," he added, sliding back against his friend, unconscious.

Vance kneeled down beside them, taking in the beleaguered agent. "How in the world did he manage to hold this guy off?" the Director questioned.

Gibbs grinned crookedly. "Don't ever underestimate DiNozzo," he replied proudly, meeting Vance's perplexed gaze.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs sipped coffee and stared out the window. Tony was finally asleep.

It had taken some time to get the field agent cleaned up from all of Amir's blood and then moved to a different room, since 212 was now a crime scene. The cut on Tony's neck had to be re-bandaged after the scab had broken loose during the choking. The younger man's voice had completely died away after the attack, which along with the additional soreness, left the agent anxious and frustrated.

The ICU doctor had insisted on sedating Tony, due to his elevated blood pressure and erratic breathing, feeling that he needed to rest until his vital signs stabilized. DiNozzo tried to argue, as much as someone with no voice could. He kept mouthing that he was fine, using his green eyes to express his unhappiness with the situation.

"Just let the Doc take care of you, Tony. Do what he says, ok?" the older agent insisted despite his friend's pleas. Tony was pale and shaky; Gibbs could tell the doctor was right no matter what DiNozzo thought. The doctor looked at Gibbs with a questioning expression; the silver-haired man reluctantly nodded his assent.

The physician had injected the medication into the catheter without another word to his patient, who had once again shaken his head no. Gibbs could sense Tony's anger at not having anyone listen to him. But it had taken only a few minutes for the exhausted man to fall into a deep sleep.

Gibbs couldn't erase the image that he found after breaking through the door to Tony's room. Amir had been straddling Tony, choking him mercilessly. Gibbs had no regret about shooting the man on the spot, although testing on the drug DiNozzo had injected into the terrorist's leg revealed it to be lethal. The assassin would have died within minutes anyway.

Ducky quietly entered the room. "Now that Anthony's settled, Jethro, I thought you might need a break. I'll sit with our young man for a while if you'd like me to," he offered. Dr. Mallard knew the Lead Agent would refuse to leave Tony alone after the latest incident. "I insist, Jethro. Go, clear your head for a few minutes."

Gibbs smiled at his long-time friend, "Thanks, Duck," he said, moving toward the door.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

As McGee and Ziva processed the scene in Tony's room, Gibbs decided it was time to find some coffee. Instead he found Vance standing at the nurse's station talking to Tony's doctor. When Gibbs approached the two men, anger flashing in his steel blue eyes, Vance knew there was going to be trouble.

"What's going on here?" the Team Leader demanded.

The doctor hesitated, looking back and forth between the two NCIS agents.

"Well, I was just updating the Director on Mr. DiNozzo's condition," the doctor explained. "He really is doing much better in spite of this recent event…."

"As next-of-kin, did I give you permission to discuss Agent DiNozzo's medical status with Director Vance?" Gibbs asked the suddenly uncomfortable physician.

"Uh, no you didn't, but I thought since he is the agency director and has been quite involved with the case you wouldn't mind if I kept him informed," the doctor stammered.

"Next time don't think, check. And I do mind. I am the only person you are to discuss Tony's medical situation with, understand?" Gibbs reprimanded.

"Of course," the doctor said stiffly.

"I'm going to get coffee," Gibbs said tersely, stalking away.

Vance followed after him. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "Why would you care if I know how Tony is doing? Are you trying to mark your territory?"

Gibbs rounded on the man. "Listen, Leon, you might want to soothe your guilty conscience by all of the sudden caring about Tony, but you don't have to keep up the act for me. I've had Tony's six for a long time now and I really don't need your help. And Tony's made it perfectly clear he doesn't want your assistance, either. So why don't you do us all a favor and go back to your nice big office and let the grunts take care of the dirty work. That's what you're used to, right?" Gibbs stated angrily. He was tired of seeing Tony nearly die because of Vance's closet full of skeletons

Vance stepped forward, "Let's get this straight, Jethro. I am not backing down. I have never been one to shirk my responsibilities and I won't drop the ball on this one. We need to start working together for Tony and for my family."

Gibbs evaluated the statement, "Do you have something in mind?"

Vance pulled a toothpick out of his pocket, "As a matter-of-fact, I do. We need to get Aziz out in the open. Go on the offensive before he has time to formulate another attack. The man is brilliant, so just sitting around waiting for him to make a mistake won't work." Vance paused, "We need to control the next event, and catch him in the act."

Gibbs eyes narrowed, "Are you talking about setting a trap? Using Tony as bait?"

"And myself," Vance corrected. "Don't forget, I'm Hazim's primary target. We set a trap so Hazim can come after us both. If the opportunity is right, Aziz won't be able to resist."

The Team Leader considered for a moment. "Set it up," he said, going to find some decent coffee.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The late morning sun splashed through the windows of Tony's new room.

"Are you sure this is necessary, Boss?" Tony asked softly for the tenth time, trying to find a way to get out of the scenario. "Couldn't we just go to your place and let Hazim try to kill me there?"

Gibbs and a nurse were helping Tony get dressed. Gibbs heard a sharp intake of breath as the loose t-shirt brushed against the cut on the younger man's throat. This was probably a terrible idea; Tony really needed to stay in the hospital. But it was getting too difficult to protect him here, and it was also endangering the other patients. No, the best resolution was to take Hazim out of the equation and they needed to do that on their own terms.

"Sure you're up to this?"Gibbs questioned soberly.

"Yeah, Boss, I can handle it," Tony replied hoarsely. He tried clearing his throat, but that only led to more coughing. The nurse brought him a glass of water which he sipped slowly. _"I hope I can handle it,"_ he thought.

"Could we at least leave Vance here?" Tony asked in a hopeful whisper, trying not to upset his tender vocal chords.

Gibbs smiled, "Wish we could. But he's part of the bait, and it's his vacation house we're going to."

"I have a feeling this isn't going to be much of a vacation," Tony groaned as Gibbs helped him slide into a jacket.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Each taking an arm, Gibbs and Vance transferred Tony from the wheelchair to the car. The Lead Agent could feel the younger man's ribs poking through his loose fitting clothes. "You been eating those milkshakes they give you?" he asked.

"Uh yeah, kinda," Tony replied, amazed at how light-headed just getting into the car was making him. "They taste really bad, Boss."

"Well, when we get to Vance's place I'm watching you eat them. I guess I could puree you a pizza," he teased, settling Tony into the passenger's seat.

Vance stood back, listening to the quiet exchange. There was so much to this relationship he had missed. Sliding into the back seat, Vance was prepared for one of Gibb's legendary driving experiences. But as the car smoothly pulled from the curb, he realized they were going to be traveling very slowly and carefully. Ziva and McGee were in a car in front of theirs and several other agents traveled behind them. Leaning back for the next few hours, Vance hoped they were not foolishly putting all their lives at risk.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The small caravan arrived at the bungalow late in the afternoon. Tony slept most of the way, waking only to shift position off his tender back. Gibbs and Vance helped the injured man into the house as McGee, Ziva, and the other agents unpacked the cars. The doctor had sent a variety of medical supplies to insure Tony was taken care of, from a portable oxygen tank to boxes of bandages.

Settling into one of the multiple bedrooms, Tony managed to sit aside his dislike long enough to gaze at Vance with open admiration. "How much does a Director make anyway? I think I need to re-assess my career path. This place is awesome!" he declared, punctuating the statement with a wheezy cough.

"Too much talking, DiNozzo," Gibbs barked.

Vance looked uncomfortable, but didn't comment. He was relieved by McGee coming into the room and dumping a pile of duffel bags and supplies in the floor. "I think I got it all," he huffed. He glanced up as Tony continued coughing, unable to clear his throat.

"McGee, you and Ziva coordinate with the other agents to establish the perimeter. I'll come and check it over when I'm finished here," Gibbs ordered.

"On it, boss," McGee agreed, heading out the door.

"Here, Tony, drink this," Gibbs handed him a bottle of water. After a few minutes, the coughing subsided, but Tony looked decidedly spent as a result.

"Tired?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "It's been a big day for the invalid." His voice was getting softer and thinner the more he talked.

"As soon as we get those bandages changed on your back you can sleep for a while," Gibbs said easily, knowing this was what the Senior Field Agent was trying to avoid.

Tony opened his mouth to offer an excuse, but the glare made him realize it was a pointless argument.

"Get it over with," he said, his previous good mood gone.

With Vance's assistance, Gibbs eased the t-shirt off Tony and gently loosened the bandages covering the burn. It was the first time either Gibbs or Vance had taken a close look at the injury which covered most of Tony's back. Gibbs gave Vance a stare that shut down all comment at the unpleasant sight. "That bad, huh," Tony said quietly.

"Nah, I've seen worse sunburns," Gibbs commented blandly, not wanting to upset his friend. Picking up a sterile pad and the antiseptic, he started clearing off the scabbed areas. He gently wiped around the bright pink skin and slightly inflamed spots. Several sections were tinged yellow, indicating possible infection that had to be given extra attention. Tony bit his lip but remained silent, flinching occasionally as a sore spot was touched. Stitches from the removed glass were interspersed throughout the raw, red mess. As the antiseptic was spread around the injury, Tony's back started to hurt and itch.

Before Gibbs began applying the antibiotic ointment, his walkie-talkie squawked. Ziva had some questions regarding the security measures. Gibbs glanced at Vance, "Can you finish this?" he asked.

"Of course," the Director replied, taking the supplies.

Gibbs rubbed Tony on the head, "I gotta go talk to Ziva, let him finish this up, ok?"

Tony was shivering a little, "Fine," he agreed unpleasantly.

Vance continued applying the cold antibiotic. "DiNozzo," he ventured. "What were you thinking back there in my house? I saw the way you protected Jared and Kayla. You put your life on the line to save them. Most people wouldn't have done it. Why did you?"

Tony snorted, "Are you surprised, Director? What kind of man do you think I am? No, don't answer that, over the last few years you've made it perfectly clear what kind of person you think I am. Is it hard for you to accept that goof-off Anthony DiNozzo was the person who saved your children?"

Vance was quiet, "I formed an opinion of you based on your previous actions. Now I'm trying to decide if I should re-evaluate my assessment."

"Well, I didn't do it so you could _re-evaluate_ me. I did it because you have great kids and I didn't want to see them hurt. It's as simple as that," he responded. "And I still resent that you weren't upfront with everything you knew about the operation. It endangered everyone, including your own children." He paused to take a steadying breath. "I thought you would've learned more from our previous Director."

Vance was suddenly angry. "No matter what you have done, Agent DiNozzo, it doesn't give you the right to question my decision making as Director of this agency or as a father. If you are ever the one in charge, which isn't very likely, then you can ask those questions and come to your own conclusions. Until then you are to take orders and do as you're told, no questions asked."

Tony smirked, "I guess the Director Vance we know and love decided now was the time to make his return. I didn't think he'd be gone long."

Silence hung in the air between the two men. Vance realizing too late that he had gone a step too far. Tony was sitting stock still, eyes closed and breathing through his nose, seemingly miles away. Looking down at the scarred and burnt skin of the Senior Field Agent, Vance knew he at least had to finish the task at hand.

"I need to put these bandages on," he said awkwardly. Tony did not reply. By the time Vance finished the dressing, DiNozzo was shivering again.

"Come on, get covered up. If I let you get too cold Gibbs will have my ass on a plate," he said lamely.

"I can do it myself, Director. You are excused for the night," Tony replied dismissively. The look in his shadowed green eyes made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with Vance.

Vance walked out of the room without another word. Tony eased himself back on the bed and closed his eyes. He was shivering hard now, both his back and throat burning intensely. Tony's mind, however, was focused on the Director. Even after everything that happened, Vance still couldn't see Tony as anything more than a screw-up.

Tony realized that he acted like an idiot sometimes. He hadn't as much recently; he was trying to break the old habit of hiding behind a mask all the time. He acted that way so people wouldn't look too closely or ask too many questions; life was easier like that. Plus, it was what most people expected from him anyway; so Tony tried to give them what they wanted. But even though he had started to change, the Director was still evaluating him on the actions he had seen in the past. Vance appeared unwilling to alter his perception of DiNozzo.

The Director, Tony realized, was an even bigger bastard than he ever imagined.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs walked through the dark and quiet house, listening for any unusual sounds. The agents they had brought along were ensconced in the surrounding woods, observing for any activity that might indicate the attack they hoped would come.

Satisfied nothing was amiss, Gibbs stepped into Tony's room to check on his friend. He was surprised to find his agent asleep on top of the covers with no shirt on and the same pants and shoes he had arrived in. Even asleep, the young man was visibly trembling.

"Damn you, Vance," Gibbs muttered, setting down his coffee and taking off DiNozzo's shoes.

"I'm sleepin', Boss," Tony said drowsily.

"More like freezing, DiNozzo, now come on, let me get you covered up," Gibbs softly chided.

After some maneuvering he managed to get Tony under the blankets, and felt a little more at ease that most of the shaking had subsided. He would have felt even better if they could take Tony back to the hospital.

Staring out the window into the inky blackness, Gibbs willed Hazim Aziz to take the bait and make his move. The ex-marine was waiting to teach the terrorist a lesson of his own.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note: **We're heading toward the final showdown--just a few more chapters to go!

Continued thanks to all who have been reviewing and supporting! Your comments are not only appreciated, but helpful, and you'll never know how many little ideas I've had based on your ideas. Even though the overall story is done, I go back and tweak and change all the time, usually based on a review comment.

So keep it up! Love to hear from you! It's like having a world-wide network of NCIS obsessed friends : )

You are _sooooo _great!

**TH**

The next day found the team anxious and restless. They had left plenty of bread crumbs for Hazim to find them, but not knowing when, or even if, the man would attack was infuriating. Tony was feeling somewhat better, which itself created a great deal of aggravation for Gibbs and Vance. He insisted on staying on the couch in order to be "closer to the action". All pain medication was resolutely refused so he could keep his senses alert. He wasn't going to let them be attacked while he stumbled around in a medicated stupor. But the biggest argument came regarding the "milkshakes" Tony was supposed to drink.

McGee had been assigned the thankless task of seeing that DiNozzo drank the required amount of the nutritional supplement. He cajoled, pleaded, and finally begged, touting the delicious variety of chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla Tony could choose from. DiNozzo didn't have much of an appetite yet, so he had concluded starvation would be a better route than drinking the vile mixtures. "Come on, McMilkshake," he said, "if you think they're so great, you drink one."

"Ok, I will," McGee agreed, hoping this would settle the issue and get Tony to cooperate. Tim said, "Cheers," and raised a glass of the bubbly pink liquid to his mouth, only to cough and groan at the taste seconds later. "That is nasty!" he declared, trying to wipe the taste from his tongue. "Ugh!"

"I rest my case," Tony said smugly. He didn't mention the pink mustache that covered McGee's upper lip.

McGee realized he had been played. "It doesn't matter, Tony," the junior agent argued quickly. "You still can't eat solid food and if you don't drink this Gibbs is going to kill me. Not you, me. So help me out, ok?"

At that point, Gibbs heard the conversation and intervened, threatening to drive the rail thin man straight to a hospital and put a tube back down him if he didn't drink at least three of the concoctions every day. Tony unhappily relented. He would have been just as satisfied to eat nothing, especially since prolonged use of his throat was making the pain rear its ugly head. He said nothing about this, and determined to do his best to drink all the water and shakes his friends thrust upon him, trying to show his appreciation for what they were doing. But even after that resolution, he found drinking the thick liquid to be difficult, and poured much of it into a lovely potted plant in the corner of the room.

The evening passed without incident. Ziva brought movies for them to watch, and they spent several hours viewing _The Godfather._ Tony even entertained them by using his gravelly voice to do a decent imitation of Vito Corleone. Vance hung back and observed the group; he didn't offer to participate. The Director had been quiet most of the day, avoiding interaction with any of the others, especially Tony. The older man just watched them, which DiNozzo found to be disconcerting. Unfortunately, by the end of the movie it was obvious the Senior Field Agent had completely overdone it; he was pale and his breathing was once again ragged and uneven. _"It's always worse at night,"_ thought Gibbs, remembering his own days taking care of a sick Kelly. He shook the other man's shoulder and said, "Come on, DiNozzo, I think it's time for you to hit the sack."

Tony stirred at the sound of his name, "Huh?" he responded, "Must have dozed off."

"Something like that," Gibbs said with amusement, helping Tony back toward his room.

"McGee, David," Director Vance spoke up, "Go check on the other agents and make sure there's no activity out there. When you get back we'll secure the house for the night." Ziva and Tim grabbed their gear and headed outside.

"So what happened with you and Vance last night?" Gibbs asked as he assisted Tony into bed.

Tony sighed, "We got into an argument, nothing new there." The agent flicked a glance at Gibbs. "You know, I thought he might change his mind about me, considering the situation and all." Tony sounded disappointed, "But I don't think that's ever gonna happen."

"Don't worry about him, Tony. Vance has no idea what it takes to be a real agent. He can't understand old dinosaurs like us," Gibbs reassured.

"So you think I'm an old dinosaur, Boss? You, you're more of a mean old T-Rex; I'm kind of the cute little Dino from the Flintstones, don't you think?" Tony rambled. He was really tired.

Gibbs shook his head. "Go to sleep, DiNozzo," he said.

"On it, Boss," his field agent replied, unable to keep his eyes open. As Gibbs smiled and slipped from the room, the younger man was already halfway gone.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Gibbs found Vance in the study at the end of the hallway. He was sitting on the edge of a desk turning a knife over in his hands. Hearing Gibbs approach, he said, "My father gave me this knife the summer I was twelve. We used to go camping every year, just the two of us." He didn't look up as he spoke. "I've never taken Jared camping. There's always something else to do."

The Lead Agent walked over to the window. "I guess I'm not the best person to ask for parenting advice," Gibbs commented, setting some of his anger at the man aside for the moment.

Vance glanced up, "Yeah, I'm still not sure how DiNozzo's going to turn out."

Gibbs chuckled, "I'm not trying to be his Dad, Leon, I'm just trying to be his friend. He's a good man, but not everyone can see it at first. It takes a little more than a surface level glance to realize what he's really made of." Gibbs scanned the tree line. "He's a fine investigator and there's no one else I would want to back me up every day. And if I'd had a son, he would've made a damn fine one." Gibbs looked back at the Director, "If you give him another chance, Leon, I think he'd give you one, too."

"I've read his file, Gibbs. I know he grew up without a mother and his father was less than attentive. I still don't get what happened with the whole military academy thing, but it couldn't have been easy for him to be sent away from home," Vance detailed, stepping over to stare at some family photos on the wall. "But that doesn't mean he can't control his behavior now."

"What has he done to piss you off so much?" Gibbs challenged. "Made a few jokes and played a few pranks? Followed Jenny's orders when they turned out to be reckless? Saved your children at the expense of his own safety? From what I can see, his behavior has been pretty remarkable."

Vance sighed, "I guess it's all in how you look at it," he said quietly. He placed the knife back in the desk.

"Just remember, Leon, sometimes it takes more than a first impression to know someone," Gibbs commented dryly as he headed back toward the living room.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony was awakened by shouting and crashing. _"Am I dreaming?" _he wondered. There was another crash and shouting in Arabic. _"What?"_ Tony's brain tried to catch up with what was happening. The sound of gunfire startled him completely awake and he sat up swiftly, groaning as he pulled the tight skin on his back. The noises from down the hall didn't sound good at all.

Settling his feet on the floor and placing a steadying hand against the wall, Tony stood. He closed his eyes and swayed a little, but managed to stay upright. "Baby steps," he whispered. He had to keep it together and find out what was happening. At least he was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, so he didn't have to worry about getting dressed or running around the house in his usual "au natural" attire. Easing the door open, he peered into the darkened hallway, seeing nothing. Deciding to risk it, he stepped out and slowly advanced toward the living room, keeping his hand on the wall for support. He could hear someone speaking, but couldn't make out the words. _"Was that Gibbs?"_ he wondered, concentrating harder on the voices.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone behind him. "It's me, Tony, stay quiet," Vance said in his ear. He indicated for Tony to follow him; they made their way to the small office at the back of the house.

"You ok?" Vance asked, as Tony dropped heavily into a chair. He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.

"For now," he replied, knowing that adrenaline was keeping him going, but not knowing how long it would last. He was dizzy from the trip down the hall. "What happened?"

"Hazim and a couple of his guys got in somehow. I was in another room, but Gibbs must have run into them and they grabbed him. Ziva and McGee were outside sweeping the grounds; I haven't seen them since," he explained.

"The gunfire?" Tony asked, worried about the Lead Agent.

"I think they were trying to make a point to us and scare Gibbs," he replied. "From what I could see he wasn't shot."

"So what now?" DiNozzo asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You got a plan?"

Vance checked the ammunition in his Sig. "Any chance you can fight if you need to?" the Director inquired, giving the ashen man a skeptical once over.

Tony scoffed bravely, "Don't forget, I helped kill a terrorist while still in ICU. I can take care of myself if I have to. Got any other weapons?"

Vance opened a drawer in the desk and produced the hunting knife. Handing it to Tony he said, "It was my father's. Do you know how to use it?"

"Again, I'm insulted by your lack of faith. Years in summer camp weren't wasted time, trust me. I can hit the wings on a fly at a hundred feet," he boasted, his voice stronger but still hoarse.

Now Vance snorted, "If you don't fall over first. Don't try anything stupid. I'm not sure you have the strength to hold that knife."

Using the desk for leverage, Tony hoisted his shaky body from the chair, "Well, if you think I'm just going to sit here while mentally unstable terrorists hold Gibbs hostage, you're pretty crazy, too. I have to help."

Vance sighed, "DiNozzo, _Tony_, you've done enough. You've nearly killed yourself trying to protect everyone else. Sit this one out and let the rest of us take care of it. Or are you trying to prove something?"

This was not the time to fight with Vance, there was too much at stake. "I'm not trying to prove anything, Director. The fact you think I am shows how off base you are about me," he retorted. The younger man's lips thinned and he cleared his throat, refusing to cough. "Gibbs has always had my back, no matter what. He's the best man, the best friend, I've ever known. And I would do anything for him. _No questions asked._ He's earned that time and time again." Tony paused, "You know, _Leon,_ I sized you up the first time I met you, too."

"And I didn't measure up? Gibbs is a hard yardstick to compare everyone to. No wonder I don't meet your standards," Vance stated caustically.

"It's the same measure I use for myself every day. And even though I never meet the mark, I keep trying," Tony explained. He met Vance's eyes. "I guess I think people who believe they're better than me should do the same."

"Maybe I misjudged you, DiNozzo. But you have to admit, you don't make it easy on people to see through all the smoke and mirrors," he defended himself.

"Gibbs always could," Tony said simply, explaining everything with those three small words. "Now, if we're done bonding I think we should go help him out." Tony took a few steps and grabbed the chair for support. He straightened himself and gave Vance a challenging stare. "I'm fine," he said, stifling another cough.

"You are a stubborn bastard," Vance observed.

"I learned from the best," Tony agreed with a mischievous grin.

Both men were startled when automatic gunfire echoed from the front of the house. People were shouting and they could hear glass shattering. Vance looked at Tony, who said, "Go. Find out what's happened. I'll catch up."

The Director nodded and raced into the hall. Taking a deep breath, Tony slowly headed after him.

"I don't think your help will be needed, Agent DiNozzo," a soft voice stated as a shadowy figure stepped into the doorway.

Tony stopped and swayed slightly, trying to catch his balance with nothing to hold on to. The person in front of him was small, dressed in black, a full ski mask covering his face. He held a gun pointed straight at Tony's chest. "Come with me," he said.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just go see how my friends are doing," Tony replied as flippantly as possible, maintaining the distance between himself and the intruder. "They're expecting me, you know? It would be rude not to show up." The small man stepped close to the federal agent, carefully easing behind him. "Have you ever heard of personal space?" Tony asked, as he could feel the man's breath on the back of his neck.

"This is not a request. Move. Now," The voice was muffled, but clipped and precise. Tony observed the man carefully, then started walking toward the door. Almost there he stumbled, and the dark figure reached out to grab him. Pulling the knife from his pocket, Tony pivoted to stab at the abdomen of his attacker, Vance's knife slashing against soft skin. The assassin jumped back and cried out, kicking the already off-balance Tony, knocking him to the floor. Grabbing the knife, the attacker jumped on top on DiNozzo, noticing the pale features and labored breathing of the man beneath him.

Tony's green eyes stared up, and he knew this was it. He was too weak to defend himself, and he should never have tried the knife assault. But he realized if this person took him out of the house, there was little hope he would be found. The knife glinted above him, then quickly slashed down at this chest, breaking the skin in a shallow cut. Tony grimaced at the sudden sharp pain. The attacker hopped up and once again pointed his gun at the agent's chest, "Now, walk, or the next time it's a bullet to the head."

With great effort, Tony raised himself to his feet. Down the hall he could still hear gunshots and shouting. However, he and his assailant went in the opposite direction and out the back door into the night.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Ziva, McGee and several other NCIS agents broke through the front door of Vance's vacation home to find three terrorists holding Gibbs at gunpoint. Gibbs jumped to the side as his agents burst into the room, taking cover and retrieving a dropped weapon, firing off several shots as he rolled behind a couch. More gunfire was exchanged, taking out furniture and windows. One by one the terrorists went down, with the last intruder taken out by Vance who entered the fray from the hallway. Silence finally settled over the house.

The agents looked around at the dead attackers. Ziva walked to the middle of the room, "I am sorry it took us so long to return. We were held down by several snipers outside the house. Once we eliminated those assailants, we made our way back here. I think we have subdued all of them," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Good work," said Gibbs. "Does anyone see Hazim?"

Glancing through the bodies, it was soon discovered the terrorist they sought was not among the dead. "Dammit!" Gibbs shouted. "We still don't have him!"

McGee was looking around. "Hey," he stated cautiously, "Where's Tony?"

Vance turned back toward the hallway, "I left him in the study." He raced back to the room where he had last seen DiNozzo, followed closely by the rest of the team.

The only thing remaining in the room was a small puddle of blood in the middle of the floor. Drops of red led out of the study and to the back door which was standing open wide.

Gibb's pale blue eyes creased with anger. "They've got him," he said flatly. Turning to Vance, he added, "I think we were the ones caught in a trap, Leon. And we didn't even know it until after it was sprung." The silver-haired man slammed his fist into the wall.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony's body ached and the cold of the night leeched through his skin; he wouldn't be able to walk much farther. They had been trudging along for at least fifteen minutes; he was amazed he had made it this far. His pace slowed again, and he felt the tip of the man's rifle poke into the burnt skin on his back. Stifling a moan, Tony tripped and hit the ground. His vision grayed and the images around him became fuzzy and indistinct. "Get up," he heard his assailant say, but he knew it was no use. He wouldn't be walking any more tonight.

"Can't," he mumbled, trying to look up from his spot on the ground. He heard an engine nearby; a vehicle pulled close to them.

Suddenly, rough hands grasped his arms and drug him across the gravel covered path. He was tossed inside the back of a van, landing hard against his sore back. The gray around his vision turned black for a few seconds; as it receded he opened his eyes again to see a large dark-haired man holding a gun. The ski-masked man was sitting beside him, bloody hand covering the knife wound on his stomach. Tony allowed himself a grin at the sight of the man's injury.

"Hello, Agent DiNozzo, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," the dark-haired man said. "I am Hazim Aziz."

Tony narrowed his eyes at the terrorist. His breaths were coming in short painful gasps; his throat had closed up again making a response impossible. He stared bitterly at Aziz, hoping the man could feel his anger and disdain.

Hazim leaned forward, "I see you are still not well. Director Vance should not have taken you out of the hospital so soon. He never did care for those who worked with him." He shook his head. "Well, since you have already met my sons, whose lives you helped take from me, I think I should now introduce you to my only remaining child."

Tony watched as the dark-clad figure removed the ski mask, long black curls falling over her shoulders. "My daughter, Iman."

Iman Aziz leaned in close and grabbed Tony's hair, jerking his head back harshly. "It is my hand that will be the one to kill you, Agent DiNozzo, and avenge the deaths of my brothers," she said harshly. "And it is your spilled blood that will return my family's pride."

Tony stared speechlessly into her dark and hate-filled eyes, wondering where this nightmare was going to take him next.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note:** As the story winds down, I just want to say how truly humbled I am by all the wonderful responses! I suppose there is some satisfaction in writing just for the sake of doing it, but without readers who enjoy it, there is little purpose. You have let me take my daydreams and turn them into something legitimate, and for that I am grateful. Sorry for all the sap, but I wanted you to know just how meaningful all the reviews and alerts are to me. Even a short, "Good story," is enough to make me smile! So thank you, thank you, thank you! (And please continue to review!).

I hope you enjoy today's chapter....the final showdown happens tomorrow.

Hugs to all my fellow fiction fans!

**TH**

"I have an id from the fingerprint McGee lifted off the back door of the house," Abby announced to Gibbs and Vance, who were gathered in her lab.

"Good work, Abby," Gibbs said. "Who is it?"

"Not yet," she informed the silver-haired agent. "First, you have to promise me you're going to get Tony back. You too, Director," she said, glaring at Vance. "I can't believe the two of you let him get taken in his condition to begin with." She shook her head in amazement. "Two of the best agents in the business and someone just sneaks him out the back door. Unbelievable!" Her pigtails bounced from side to side as she shook her head in disbelief.

Vance started to protest, but Gibbs stopped him with a stare. He then gave Abby a hug, "Of course we'll get him back. You know me better than that."

"I know, Gibbs, but this time Tony is pretty defenseless. Usually he can take care of himself, but he really should still be in the hospital. What if something bad happens before you find him?" she questioned fearfully.

Dr. Mallard entered the lab. "Abigail is right, you know. Tony's injuries leave him susceptible to multiple setbacks, including infection in the burned area or pneumonia from the pulmonary contusion. Add that to the fact he is weakened from the lack of appropriate nutrition and the overall shock to his body, and it is highly likely his condition will decline quickly without proper medical care," the ME explained

"Then we need to find him fast," Gibbs responded, giving the young Goth a meaningful gaze. "So help me out by giving me the name."

Abby smiled into her favorite pair of blue eyes, "Iman Aziz," she said, clicking up a picture of a beautiful dark-haired young woman. "Youngest child and only daughter of Hazim Aziz."

"Why didn't anyone mention a daughter before?" Vance asked.

McGee and Ziva walked into the room. McGee looked up sheepishly, "Sorry, Boss. The daughter had, as far as we knew, never left Afghanistan. She seemed to be a non-factor."

"Well, she's a factor now," Gibbs said. "McGee, Ziva, find her." The two agents glanced at each other and paused. "Now!" Gibbs shouted. "Every second we wait is a second Tony doesn't have!"

As the two agents hurried to the elevator, McGee noted the lines of worry crossing Ziva's face. "You ok?" he asked his partner.

She looked down at the floor of the elevator. "I am just concerned about Tony's well-being. He is currently in the hands of one of the deadliest terrorist groups we know of. They will not hesitate to kill him, nor will they be inclined to offer him necessary medical treatment," she explained solemnly, not meeting his eyes.

"Come on, Ziva, this is Tony," McGee said, trying to lift her spirit. "If I know him he probably has this Iman Aziz eating out of the palm of his hand."

Ziva snorted, finally meeting McGee's eyes. "You think he has her wrapped around his index finger?" she offered.

"Wrapped around his _little_ finger," McGee corrected. "And yes, Tony always has a way with beautiful women."

Ziva looked worried again, "I know, McGee, but this woman is a trained assassin and the daughter of a crazed terrorist. I am not sure that even Tony has enough charm to handle her."

McGee didn't respond, but couldn't help noticing the similarities between Iman Aziz and the woman standing next to him in the elevator. _"At least Tony has some practice,"_ he thought as they headed into the bullpen to locate the latest member of the Aziz family.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony's senses came back alive one by one. First he realized he was cold. He didn't have a shirt on and a breeze was blowing across his back. He could hear someone moving nearby, but couldn't tell what the person was doing. The usual aches and pains were still there, with the knife wound on his chest now added to the ever growing list. _"Why was he laying on his stomach?"_ he wondered. As he tried to roll over, he unpleasantly discovered that his hands were stretched above his head and secured to the rails of a small bed. _"Great,"_ he thought. _"Just great."_

"Are you awake?" a soft feminine voice asked near his ear. He pushed an eye open and gazed into the beautiful face of Iman Aziz.

"Where are we?" he asked thickly. His voice once again had the rough edge to it.

She smiled again. _"Such a pretty smile," _he thought vaguely. In another time and place he could've been very attracted to her.

"You are at my father's training camp in West Virginia. We came here last night. You don't remember?" she asked.

Tony had a hazy recollection of driving in the van, but not much about the previous night was clear. He could hear her rustling beside him, then she was sitting in a chair next to the bed. She began removing the dressing from his back. "What are you doing?" he asked, somewhat concerned.

"You are still not recovered from your injuries, and this wound needs to be cleaned and re-bandaged. You seemed a bit feverish last night, and I do not want to be responsible for you getting an infection," she explained.

Tony grunted, "You said you were going to kill me to avenge your brothers, and now you're taking care of me? What am I missing here?" he asked in confusion.

She sighed as she began tending to the healing wound. "You do not understand. Much of what I said was for the sake of my father. My brothers were nothing more than animals and I am not sorry they are dead. They were cruel and hateful men," she replied angrily. Her long, soft fingers caressed Tony's tender skin as she applied a creme to the injury. Slowly her fingers moved to his shoulders and she massaged them gently. Tony closed his eyes and reminded himself not to enjoy it. No matter how beautiful, this woman was just one more member of a family of sociopaths. She carefully applied fresh bandaging to the burn.

"You probably think me as insane as my father and brothers, but I am not. I realize your actions have all been in self-defense. But it is my family duty to do as my father says," she mused aloud, as she started to run her fingers along Tony's arms and back. "Things are so different here in America. Tell me," she asked suddenly, "Are you considered handsome in your country?"

"Um," Tony hesitated, for once at a loss for words. "Some people think so, I suppose."

"I agree," she said, now trailing her fingers along the back of his neck and into his hair. Normally, a gorgeous woman gently caressing his neck would be enticing, but right now it was simply disturbing. Tony was completely exhausted, and he was starting to feel sick to his stomach. He even wished he had drunk more of McGee's milkshakes and hadn't poured so much in the potted plant. A shiver swept over his body and he coughed harshly. His arms ached from being stretched above him and the angle he had to turn his head made his throat and chest hurt.

"Listen," he said thinly, "I'm really sore, and I don't think I'm in any shape to go anywhere, could you please untie me? I can't breathe very well like this." He tried to turn his head to see her.

She stood and walked to the side of the room; upon returning Tony caught a glimpse of a needle in her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the nervousness in his voice. He had already dealt enough with crazy terrorists and hypodermic needles. The entire situation was completely unsettling.

"Don't worry, I'm trained as a nurse. My father felt it was an acceptable occupation for a woman," she laughed bitterly. "This is just an antibiotic," she explained, quickly injecting his upper arm. He flinched. "This, she added, producing a second needle, "is a painkiller. I still need to look at the cut on your chest, and it will help you relax." Before Tony could protest, she injected him again. She sat back and watched him silently.

Tony rested his head on the pillow and felt the drug start to take effect. After a few minutes, his thoughts grew slow and sluggish. As his eyes lost their ability to focus, Iman stood and untied his hands, then carefully helped him turn over. He zoned out while she cleaned and dressed the cut across his chest. Awareness returned as he noticed the exotic young woman stroking his chest. "Why did you cut me?" he asked, feeling slightly disconnected from his body.

"You stabbed me!" Iman replied indignantly. "I couldn't let you do that without a repercussion. I refuse to let any man hurt me without consequences," she stared away distractedly. Then she shook her head and smiled. "But it is just a small cut, nothing serious," she stroked the hair back from his sticky forehead. He was blinking and his mouth felt like sandpaper. She raised his head up and forced him to drink some water.

The female terrorist stared into the federal agent's cloudy green eyes. She sighed, "When the time comes, I think I will regret ending your life, Agent DiNozzo."

Those were the last words Tony heard before he lost his grip on consciousness.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

McGee traced Iman Aziz' last known location to a small town in West Virginia. Further investigation revealed a former scout camp that was now being used as a "religious retreat." The FBI was already watching the site for possible terrorist activity.

"This has to be where Aziz has taken Tony!" Ziva exclaimed. "We must organize a rescue attempt immediately."

Gibbs gave Vance a piercing stare. "Director?" he queried.

Vance did not immediately respond. "SecNav isn't going to like getting involved at the level it will take to infiltrate this place. We're looking at a full blown invasion, not just a few agents. I don't know if I can convince him to take this kind of chance on the hope of rescuing one agent."

"We'll possibly be eliminating a terrorist training cell right here in the United States, won't he want to do that?" asked McGee.

"If the operation goes smoothly, yes. But if the intel is wrong and we get involved in another Waco, my career is over, and so is his. There can be no doubts," the Director explained. "We need to wait for more intelligence to confirm both the terrorist activity and DiNozzo's presence there."

Gibbs glared at Vance, then said, "I'm going for coffee." He headed for the elevator. Vance followed. Once inside, Gibbs flipped the switch.

"How long are you going to wait?" the frustrated agent asked. "Two days? Three? Until Hazim starts sending us little pieces of Tony in the mail?"

"No matter how much I want to go after DiNozzo, I can't take this kind of uncalculated risk, Gibbs! It could end up as suicide for us all, and I just can't make these decisions impulsively," Vance declared.

"Did Tony calculate the risks when he threw himself over your children? Maybe if he had he would have chosen differently!" Gibbs yelled. "Sometimes, Leon, instead of waiting for the right amount of intelligence, you just have to go with your gut! My gut is telling me that Tony doesn't have much time. What is yours telling you?" the older man challenged, the steel blue of his eyes flashing.

Vance hesitated. His intellect was telling him to wait. But dammit, Gibbs was right, his gut said they had to get Tony out now.

"We'll go in after dark," Vance agreed, opening the elevator doors and walking back toward his office. Making the arrangements was not going to be easy.

"I knew you'd get it right one of these days," Gibbs said with a half-smile.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Under normal circumstances Tony would have been planning an escape attempt, but the current circumstances were anything but normal. It had only been a little more than a week since the explosion at Vance's house, and his body wasn't even close to being recovered. He was still extremely weak, and he knew that even standing was an iffy proposition. So the only angle he had to play was Iman's unexpected kindness toward him. At least until Gibbs and Vance got him out of here.

"_They will get me out, right?"_ he asked himself. He had no doubt the ex-marine would come after him, but he wasn't so sure about Vance. This was a terrorist training facility; it was going to take more than just the team to get in and out of here safely. Vance would have to provide manpower and firepower. Would he do that for Tony? He and Vance had seemed to come to some sort of understanding during their last conversation at the vacation house, but would it be enough for the Director to launch a small-scale war for him?

"I doubt it," he said to no one in particular. He lay there worrying that if Vance wouldn't help, Gibbs would come alone. And not even Gibbs could take on an entire terrorist cell without enough help.

The door opened and Iman entered. Tony put on his most innocent wounded puppy dog expression. "I see you are awake. How are you feeling?" she asked neutrally.

"OK, I suppose," he replied, ending the words with a harsh and hacking cough. The cough was real enough. The room they were in was a small infirmary, and she picked up a nearby stethoscope to listen to his lungs.

"Both a healer and a killer; you are quite a package," Tony remarked as her hand slid along his bare chest. He shivered, but not from the cold.

"It takes a lot for a woman to survive in my world," she replied. "I don't think you have pneumonia, but it is at least a very bad case of bronchitis. You need to clear out your lungs as much as possible to prevent it from getting worse."

"Well, that hasn't been so easy since Khalid tried to strangle me and Ahmed tried to blow me up. Oh, and let's not forget Amir trying to poison me," he said a little more angrily than he intended. Catching himself, he lowered his voice, "Why is your father keeping me here? What is he planning to do with me?"

Her expression softened. "He is going to use you to lure Vance here. My father's hatred for him runs very deep and he will not be satisfied until the NCIS Director is dead. After he deals with Vance," she paused and stared at him with a hard expression in her large brown eyes, "he intends for me to kill you."

"Oh," Tony replied with a small cough.

Iman smiled sadly, "You seem like a nice man, Tony. But you must understand that I have no choice in the matter. I must do what my father expects of me, or I will die myself."

Before Tony could think of a reply, the door slammed open and Hazim entered the room. "Iman, how is our guest doing? I want to make sure our bait is still with us when we need him," he explained.

"I will fulfill my obligations, father. I will see that he lives," she stated coldly.

"You do that, Iman, or you will answer for your failure," Hazim threatened his last remaining child.

Tony watched the exchange warily. Hazim approached him with a broad, malicious smile. "Vance thought he could trick me with his pathetic trap, but as always he underestimated me," the terrorist informed the injured man. "Soon, you will see exactly what a piece of filth Leon Vance really is. He will betray you just as he betrayed me. He has no honor, and that will be revealed to you before I end both your life and his."

Hazim patted Tony on his pale and sallow cheek. The young man met the assassin's gaze with his own intense stare, but despite his best effort to stop it a cough built up and erupted from his throat. Hazim shook his head. He turned to his daughter and gripped her arm tightly, "Do not forget, Iman, I expect him to stay alive until he is of no use anymore."

Feeling he had made his point, Aziz walked from the room. "Glad I can be of help," Tony choked out as the assassin left.

Iman sighed. "He treats everyone, even me, like nothing more than possessions. But he is my father, and that I must respect," she explained, sitting down next to him. "You would not treat a woman that way, would you Tony?" she asked solemnly.

Before Tony could think of a response, another bout of coughing ripped from his lungs. The force caused his chest, back, and throat to all hurt in unison. Iman held him close to her until the episode passed and he once again lay back in the bed. He opened his eyes at the sting of another injection in his arm. "More antibiotics," she told him as she sat back down on the bed. "I am sorry that I cannot do more."

"Thank you for trying to help me," Tony said softly, noticing the pain in her dark eyes.

The beautiful assassin smiled apologetically at the unfortunate man who had become a pawn in the games of others. "You are welcome," she said. "Although I am afraid that when my father returns, even my help will not be enough."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Vance placed the Sig in its holster. The SecNav had not been pleased about approving the operation. He made it clear that any problems would land squarely at Vance's feet, potentially ending a career the Director had spent his entire life building. And all to save Anthony DiNozzo, a man who two weeks ago he would have been just as happy to fire.

Vance had to admit that despite their disagreements, Tony's actions had changed his opinion of the younger man. Not only had DiNozzo saved his own children's lives, but he had carried himself with strength and dignity throughout the rest of the ordeal. He even acknowledged to himself that they had a few things in common, since both men kept most people at arm's length, forming few close relationships. Tony did it by acting like a clown, Vance by being cold and distant. The result, however, was the same.

The Director picked up a picture of his wife and children that sat on his desk. He reflected on the fact that Tony hadn't felt his mother's hug in over thirty years, and he had never had his father's undivided love. The agent had made up for that with the family he had built here, a family Vance had tried to take away from him not so long ago. He tried to understand what that had felt like for the younger man, who hadn't known if he would ever be coming home. Vance realized he had a lot to make up for.

He knew that Tony was loyal beyond reason to those he cared about. Vance wondered if he could ever obtain that type of loyalty from someone like Tony, who refused to give it easily. It surprised the Director to realize he wanted to be worthy of that loyalty in the younger man's eyes. Sitting the picture back on the desk, Vance headed for the door to meet Gibbs and the rest of the team for the short helicopter ride to West Virginia. He hoped the mission would not be a test they all failed and this time he would willingly bring the Senior Field Agent home.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Night had fallen; Tony had been coughing non-stop for the last few hours. Iman sat vigilantly by his bedside, forcing him to drink water and sitting him up when he couldn't breathe. Tony could not make any sense of the woman; her father insisted she kill him when he ordered, yet she was doing her best right now to keep him alive.

"Why are you doing this, Iman?" he questioned her as she frowned and took his pulse. His heart-rate was elevated and he had developed a low-grade fever. She did not have the equipment to perform an x-ray, but she was sure the test would reveal that the agent's bronchitis had shifted to pneumonia.

"I do not really know," she answered honestly. "I have killed many men, Agent DiNozzo, but I have never enjoyed it. I wish my life could have been different. If I had been born in America……," she silently pulled herself together. "That was not my destiny."

"Has your father contacted Vance yet?" Tony inquired in a thin and tired voice.

"No," she looked apologetic, "He said he would wait until tomorrow. He wants to make sure you survive through the night."

Tony shifted uncomfortably. His condition had deteriorated fairly quickly since arriving at the camp. He guessed there was a reason hospitals were reluctant to let seriously ill patients go running around doing police work. He would remember that the next time he tried to leave one early. _"If there is a next time,"_ he added soberly. His breathing had become so labored he knew if he were in the hospital they would be having discussions about blood gasses and ventilators. Here, all he could do was cough and hope he took another breath. Hard to believe that just a few weeks ago he had been enjoying his stint as Team Leader and had never even heard of the Aziz family.

The sound of a siren broke the silence. Iman sat up quickly, running to the window. A small explosion caused the building to shudder. "We are being attacked," she explained, pulling out and checking her own gun before turning back to Tony. "Quickly, we must get you out of here."

She helped him sit up and put on a t-shirt and jacket. He was still wearing the sweats from a few days ago. He hadn't been wearing shoes since their nighttime departure of the vacation house, so his feet remained bare. Kneeling before him, she produced Vance's hunting knife. "Here, you might need this," she smiled, placing the knife in a pocket of the jacket. Without warning, she leaned forward and kissed the federal agent fully on the lips. Instinctively, Tony responded. Pulling away, Iman smiled at the shocked man. "I very much wish my life had been different," she said, sadness once again filling her eyes.

The door was abruptly opened by Hazim and several armed men. They grabbed Tony and callously drug him from the room. "What are you doing?" Iman demanded.

"It is time for the rest of my plan to unfold," Hazim stated maniacally. "Tonight, Agent DiNozzo and Director Vance will pay for what they have done to our family."

Tony glanced back at Iman as he was forced out the door, the young woman following behind them, unsure of what ending the night was going to bring.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony was seated in a hard wooden chair. _"Terrorists seem to like hard wooden chairs,"_ he reflected, remembering his time in Somalia. Hazim had brought him to an unused storage building, forcing him to take the seat in the middle of the open floor.

"Several of my men are searching for Director Vance as we speak," Hazim explained. "When he is found, they have orders to immediately bring him here." The terrorist turned his head at the sound of the battle now taking place throughout the camp. "My followers will see that we are provided with an opportunity to finish our little business," he added.

Tony shook his head, trying to control the coughs that continued to well up inside him. "Don't you see this is all a colossal waste of time," the agent asked. "None of it will bring your family back."

Hazim turned to face him, clearly agitated. "Did you know that our family can be traced back hundreds, perhaps even a thousand years? We are descended from royalty, Agent DiNozzo. My grandson was to continue that heritage and take our name into the future. But Vance destroyed that possibility with his raid, and you destroyed any other hopes when my sons died," he explained. "The only thing I have left is revenge."

Iman shifted slightly at the lack of acknowledgement of her own place in the family dynasty.

"Well, then maybe you should put a bullet in your own head," Tony said between coughs, "since the way I see it, if you hadn't been training terrorists and trying to kill innocent children your family would still be alive."

Hazim's jaw tightened at the agent's words. "I tire of you, Agent DiNozzo. Perhaps there is no need to wait for Vance to join us. I believe we should just kill you now," he said icily. "Iman, come here," the man commanded. Tony shifted uncomfortably and shivered, not knowing what the man had planned but realizing there was little he could do to stop it.

The young woman moved over to stand by her father. "In my judgement, it is only appropriate for us to finish what Khalid started," the unbalanced terrorist intoned, pulling a length of leather cord from his pocket. Tony's eyes grew wide in recognition. "Iman," her father said, holding the cord out for her to take.

Iman reached for the garrote. She looked at Tony, confusion and uncertainty clearly written on her face and in her dark brown eyes. Tony caught her gaze, forcing her to face the fear and axiety he was feeling. Coughing again, he tried to force as much oxygen as possible into his lungs.

Hazim was aiming his gun directly at Tony, just in case the federal agent decided to try and do something foolish. "Iman, why do you wait? It is time to show this man the consequences of harming our family."

Tony watched the internal war clouding Iman's mind. Her eyes expressed pain, sorrow, then…..he saw it happen. The cold, hard look of the trained assassin he met at the bungalow returned. DiNozzo knew her decision had been made, and she hadn't chosen to try and save him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest; Tony DiNozzo had run out of options.

Stepping behind the federal agent, the beautiful terrorist slowly draped the garrote around Tony's sensitive neck. Iman closed her eyes at his sharp intake of breath. She could sense him trying to control his breathing and watched as his hands clenched into fists.

She wished things could have been different.

Tony could feel the cord pulling tighter by fractions. The already injured skin was alive with sharp edged pain that made him want to scream, but he refused to give Hazim the satisfaction of hearing him suffer. Resolutely, he thought, _"Gibbs, if you're going to show up, now would be a really good time."_

But Hazim Aziz' laughter was the only sound he heard.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or profit from NCIS.

**Author's Note:** We are at the end! I really hope you enjoy the conclusion!

Hearing from and replying to all of you has been wonderful! I'm overwhelmed at the response to my little story, especially when I look at the breakdown and see readers from all over the world (Myanmar? Latvia? It's amazing!). It's been incredible to connect to this global community.

As always, if you enjoyed, please let me know. I do have another idea brewing and I'm trying to sift through the details. So, trust me, your comments give me inspiration to keep trudging along!

Thanks for all your help and support! Bye for now!

**TLH**

A small but effective band of marines leveled an efficient attack on the terrorist training camp. From the returned gunfire and arsenal of weapons employed by the terrorists, there was no doubt the camp had been a significant cell located in Washington DC's back yard. Despite the intense level of combat being waged, Vance let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't just attacked an actual retreat of religious zealots.

Vance followed behind Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva as they cleared buildings in their search for DiNozzo. Scattered gunfire could be heard throughout the camp. So far they had discovered a variety of terrorists and weaponry, but no sign of the missing agent. _"I guess it's true that some people do grow on you like a fungus,"_ Vance considered, hoping they were not too late to help Tony. A sound from between two buildings caught his attention and he slowed, glancing down the darkened pathway. Crunching footsteps alerted him that he wasn't alone; by the time he turned a gun was already resting between his shoulder blades.

"Your weapon, please," a quiet voice no other option, Vance handed over his rifle as ordered. A lone terrorist dressed in black signaled for him to walk. "Come with me," he said, "Hazim and your friend are waiting for you."

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony grabbed the bottom of the chair and forced himself to not make a sound as agony once again tore through his throat and chest. His dying act would be to give this sadistic criminal as little satisfaction as possible. Hazim continued to laugh at Tony's obvious misery. Iman could feel the young man tense and stiffen, as her hands—seemingly with a will of their own--continued to tighten the leather cord. He tilted his head back and clenched his jaw, neck veins standing out in what she knew had to be intense pain.

She did not love this man, she had only known him a few short hours, but somehow he represented to her all that could have been in her life; the happiness and smiles, the joy and laughter that she would never have. Her family, _her father,_ prevented that from ever happening. All she had experienced was murder and death; she recalled seeing her own mother die at his hands when she was very small. Iman was more than aware of what the man was capable of doing. But did she have to go on being like him? Did she want to?

Quickly, without allowing herself another moment's thought, she dropped the garrote and turned to face her father. "I will not kill him," she said.

Tony leaned forward and took great, gulping gasps of air. He was barely aware of anything happening around him, focused only on the act of forcing oxygen into his starving lungs.

Hazim stopped laughing. He looked at his daughter with awe and wonder. "What?" he asked. "You will not kill him? The man responsible for the deaths of your brothers? For disgracing our family?"

"No, I will not," she said flatly. "He is right. His death will change nothing; it is only another senseless killing. I want no more part in it."

Tony's chest heaved painfully; he didn't even have enough air to cough. The excruciating pain in his throat had returned. Still, he tilted his head to the side trying to follow Iman's words. He was coherent enough to realize that she had refused to kill him; that she was now confronting her deranged father.

The next image that caught his eyes was nearly beyond his comprehension.

Hazim stepped toward Iman and raised his gun. Without a single word, the man emptied a bullet into her skull. The beautiful woman gasped for a moment, blood trickling from the small hole in her forehead, before toppling to the side and landing face down. Tony could see the larger opening in the back of her head where the bullet exited, a bloody mess of bone and brain.

For a moment, the only vision in his mind was Kate, her own head blown apart by Ari's gun. The two images collided, Kate on the rooftop and Iman dead at his feet, and he was vomiting, watery bile spilling onto the floor beside him. His insides twisted and tightened, his entire body unable to process the scene he had just witnessed. The terrorist laughed again, the soulless sound reminding Tony of Ahmed's laughter from over a week ago. "I would think a federal agent would have a stronger stomach. Perhaps your injuries have made you weaker than I realized," he said. "Or perhaps you have just been weak all along."

"She was your daughter!" Tony gasped, trying to control the tremors that were threatening to race through his body. He forced himself to look anywhere than at the once beautiful girl lying in the floor. Somewhere in his mind he guessed that all these events were leading to a nice case of shock. He was breathing rapidly now, short, shallow gasps that he couldn't stop, but made him light-headed and dizzy. It was as if a part of him had detached and was watching the scene from afar, no longer connected to the events playing out around him.

"I have no use for a daughter who will not follow my commands! She was willful and filled with fantasies," he spat. "I am better off to have no daughter!"

Tony stared at Hazim with as much hatred and animosity that he had ever felt for another human being in his life. He prayed for some miracle that would allow him to kill this man and rid the world of him forever.

Instead, Hazim moved next to Tony and raised his gun.

"It seems, Agent DiNozzo, that to get rid of you I am just going to have to shoot you myself," the terrorist hissed with venom in his voice.

Tony felt the barrel of the weapon as it rested on the back of his neck, just behind his ear.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

As Vance was roughly shoved into the dimly lit room, he noticed three figures in the center. But the events unfolding before him were unbelievable. Iman Aziz stood behind Tony, who was slumped forward in a chair. Hazim stepped toward his daughter, shooting her, the young woman's body falling limply to the ground. Vance gasped involuntarily. He had known Hazim was a vicious man, but this was beyond any cruelty the Director could imagine. _He just shot his own daughter._

Pulling himself back to the moment, Vance realized Hazim had walked over to Tony and was raising his weapon to the back of the Senior Field Agent's head. Without thinking, the Director kicked back violently at the knee of the terrorist escorting him, hearing a bone-splitting crack as the man cried out in pain and stumbled. Reaching out to grab the rifle, Vance turned the weapon to the side and smashed the butt of the gun into the terrorist's chin, dropping the man like a rock.

Vance raced forward, intent on killing Hazim Aziz before he had a chance to hurt Tony or anyone else for that matter. It took several seconds for the Director's brain to register that his forward movement had stopped and pain radiated from his right arm. The gun he had been aiming clattered to the floor as he himself fell backward. Looking down, Vance saw bright red blood pouring from a bullet hole in his upper right bicep.

The next thing he was aware of was Hazim's laughter.

The assassin, seeing the Director advancing toward him, had turned away from Tony to shoot his enemy instead. Tony blinked rapidly at Vance, his increasingly hazy mind noting the gunshot rip into the other man's arm, as the coughs he had been suppressing tore from his lungs. Hazim stared down at the struggling man. "Your death can wait, Agent DiNozzo, I will finish with you later," he commented, cruelly kicking the chair from beneath Tony, sending him crashing in a heap to the floor. The agent did not move.

Leaving behind the injured younger man, Hazim slowly sauntered over to where Vance was struggling to sit up, clutching his now useless arm.

Hazim raised his weapon and aimed between Vance's eyes. The Director had always known he could die in the line of duty, but now the moment was here, he struggled to accept the fate. He wondered who would tell his wife about his death? Who would play baseball with Jared? Who would listen to Kayla practice piano for her recitals? He didn't want to miss those things. He didn't want to leave his family behind. But staring up at Hazim, he knew there would be no reprieve.

"I have waited many long years for this moment," Hazim said coldly, finger applying pressure to the trigger. Vance closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable.

But instead of a gunshot ringing through the warehouse, there was a loud groan. Vance opened his eyes to see Aziz stiffen and jerk backwards, crying out in unexpected pain. "What….." the bearded man said in confusion, dropping the gun he had been aiming at Vance and reaching toward his back.

Hazim turned away from his victim and faced the other side of the room. "You!" he cried out and fell to his knees. It was then the Director noticed the knife.

His father's hunting knife protruded from between Hazim's shoulder blades, buried to the hilt. He witnessed the maniacal assassin fall over on his side. Shakily Vance stood and walked to where Hazim lay. Blood seeped from the terrorist's mouth and his eyes were barely open. Vance kneeled beside the dying man. "It didn't have to be like this, Hazim. You could have stopped this long ago," he said sadly. The terrorist coughed up blood, let out a large sigh, and his eyes fixed on nothing.

Looking up, the Director saw Tony, who was standing by the chair but swaying dangerously, very close to passing out again. The Senior Field Agent had used his last reserves of strength to hurl the knife Iman had given him at Hazim. Vance rushed across the room, just in time to use his one good arm to slow the agent's limp descent to the floor. "Knew all those years at summer camp were worth something," Tony coughed out, trying to keep his eyes open. He couldn't understand why they refused to stay focused. Another racking cough tore through him, finally forcing his eyes wide at the exertion.

Vance let Tony lean against him, the Director's own bullet wound coursing agony with every pump of his heart. "Well, we're quite a pair, aren't we," Vance stated sarcastically. Between coughs, Tony managed a mangled chuckle, "Bet you never thought you'd be saying that, huh? Kind of like Butch and Sundance."

The Director rolled his eyes. Even on the edge of death, DiNozzo couldn't stop himself.

The two agent's reprieve was short-lived as a shout in Arabic echoed across the room. Vance looked up sharply as several armed terrorists ran through the door, pointing weapons at them and shouting. The Director attempted to raise his hands above his head and show he was unarmed, but the intruders continued to press toward them.

Without warning, the sound of automatic gunfire ripped through the space. The terrorists changed course to avoid their NCIS pursuers and headed for cover in the darkened corners. One lone gunman continued to race forward, screaming with the wild edge of a madman as he closed in on Tony and Vance. Just as he was in point blank range of the unarmed men, a shot pierced through the side of his skull, forcing him to stumble and fall grotesquely in front of the NCIS agents.

Vance immediately reached out and snatched the gunman's abandoned weapon, balancing the gun awkwardly with his left hand. Looking around he saw that during the chaos Tony had once again slumped to the ground unconscious. As bullets flew past him, Vance found himself leaning forward to cover DiNozzo, shielding the younger man as best he could while they lay unprotected in the center of the building. _"I'll be damned if I let DiNozzo die now,"_ the Director vowed silently.

From all sides, bullets whizzed through the air and glanced off the floor. Several times Vance aimed and took a shot of his own, careful to identify targets he knew were terrorists. More shouting could be heard, including a cry of, "Drop your weapons," that sounded remarkably like a pissed off Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Stealing a quick glance at Tony, Vance noted the young man's complete lack of movement.

After several tense minutes, the shooting finally ceased. Gibbs ran from the shadows, automatic weapon cradled in his arms, crossing the floor to where the injured agents lay. He slowed as he passed the body of Hazim, noticing the hunting knife lodged in the man's back. His eyes then glanced over the gruesome body of Iman, still facing down to display the damage inflicted by the exiting bullet.

Tony remained unconscious; Vance was trying to wake him but was getting no response. "You ok?" Gibbs asked, noticing the Director's bloody arm.

"I'm fine. But Tony isn't," the Director replied with concern. Gibbs reached out to find a weak and thready pulse in his younger friend. He could feel heat radiating from the agent's skin. Blood once again seeped from the wound on his neck and his chest shuddered pitifully with each difficult breath. The Lead Agent looked up at the sound of Ziva and McGee approaching.

"McGee, go find some medics. And you better make it fast!" Gibbs directed, his face creased with worry at the unresponsive agent.

"On it, Boss," McGee replied, running out the door to find assistance for his friend.

Ziva knelt beside Gibbs, helping ease Tony's weight off the Director so he could better arrange his injured arm. She cradled Tony's head in her lap and took his hand in her own. She brushed his hair back with her other hand and softly told him that he was safe. Tearing his troubled gaze away from the young man, Gibbs glanced over at Hazim's body. "Who did that?" the silver-haired agent asked.

Vance stared back at the blue eyes, silent understanding passing between the two men. "Don't ever underestimate DiNozzo," the Director said with a shake of his head the Lead Agent understood completely.

Gibbs nodded, leaning over to whisper in his agent's ear. "You hang in there, Tony," he said quietly to the unconscious man. "You did good, today, you did real good."

As McGee re-entered the room with a team of medics trailing behind him, the Lead Agent stood and allowed them to tend to his protege. Silently he prayed these latest injuries wouldn't be more than the younger man could bear.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

The next few hours and days were remembered by Tony in only bits and pieces.

He recalled waking in a helicopter on the way back to DC, confused and disoriented until he noticed Vance on an adjacent gurney. The Director was talking to him, and even though he couldn't understand the words, seeing Vance there made him feel a little bit safer.

He next woke to find himself once again attached to a ventilator, the frightening sensation overwhelming until Gibbs moved into his field of vision and talked him through the anxiety. The look of calm in the blue eyes was enough to keep the panic at bay.

As tormenting chills passed through his body, he opened his eyes to find Abby sitting on the bed next to him, explaining that he had a fever as she pulled a sheet over his chest. He fell back asleep feeling her warm arms wrapped around him as he shivered.

When a coughing fit shook him to awareness with its unrelenting grip on his lungs, Ducky and Palmer were there holding him up and patting his back until the nurses arrived. And even though he was too tired to open his eyes, Tony knew they would be there to see him through the next time.

Late at night, in the grip of a feverish nightmare about Kate and Iman, McGee was the one shaking him awake and assuring him none of it was real. McGee wouldn't lie to him, so he believed his friend and closed his eyes again.

And one morning when he blinked the sleep from his eyes he found Ziva, talking quietly in Hebrew and wiping his face with a cool cloth. When she realized the green eyes were clear and he was fully aware of her presence, she smiled broadly and said, "Welcome back, my little hairy butt."

She was pleased when he offered her a weak smile in return.

_NCISNCISNCIS_

Tony lay in the hospital bed with a big decision to make. Palmer had challenged him to decide which GSM centerfold from the previous year was the hottest. He even brought Tony all of last year's magazines so he could do "research". Flipping back and forth between May and December, DiNozzo knew this was going to be an impossible choice.

The door opened and Ally, the cutest nurse on the floor, walked in with his dinner tray. "Hey, Tony, what's up?" she asked a little flirtatiously. Tony quickly stuffed the magazines under the blanket.

"Hey, Ally. What you got there?" he asked curiously, giving a skeptical eye to the various jiggling masses on the plate and in small bowls.

"A delicious array of pudding, jello, mashed potatoes, and soup," she giggled. "Some of your favorites."

Tony groaned. The soft diet was killing him. After another fun week in ICU and several more days on a step-down floor, he was finally feeling good. There were no more breathing issues and his back was healing well, it just itched like hell. Even the cut on his throat had started to scab over nicely and his voice was pretty much back to normal. The only problem now was the doctor refused to release him until he was eating all his meals. The staff was watching his food intake like a group of nursing mothers. He would have been glad to comply, but the food they were trying to make him eat had no taste and looked like various small mounds of glop.

"Oh come on, Ally, couldn't you manage a steak or a burger? Even a baked potato would be better than this," he moaned.

"Yeah, I know it's bad. But I also know you won't get out of here until you eat it. You do want to get out of here, don't you?" she asked innocently.

"Of course I do," he replied. "Especially since you've agreed to accompany me to a movie once they set me free." The federal agent smiled charmingly.

"Right," she said, smiling back and playing with her hair. "So eat."

Tony picked up a spoon and tried to decide which mound he should start with. "Try the green one," came the voice from the door.

"Hi, Boss," Tony said as Gibbs walked in. "Maybe you could eat some of this for me?" DiNozzo asked hopefully.

Gibbs observed the way Tony's shirt and sweats still hung loosely across his frame. "No chance, DiNozzo. You better eat it all up or I bet this pretty nurse here will spoon feed it to you," the silver-haired man teased. Ally giggled again.

"I'll leave and let you two visit. Remember, Tony. Eat. It. All," her tone was a little more severe.

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow. "Got a new admirer?"

Tony smiled, "Can't help it, Boss. The DiNozzo charm is like a narcotic. Besides, I think a little flirtation is good for the recuperative process. That's exactly what I told Ziva when she was here this morning." The agent's green eyes twinkled teasingly.

Gibbs huffed. The door opened again and Vance entered the room, arm strapped tightly to his chest in a sling.

"Are you ever getting out of here, DiNozzo? Or are you trying to figure out how to lay flat on your ass and not go back to work?" the Director demanded.

Now it was Tony's turn to huff. "What is it with you two? I'm the tragic hero here, saving lives, nearly dying, kidnapped by a family of crazy assassins, and instead of thanks I get harassment!" he said with mock indignation. "And to top it all off, they tell me I have to eat this crap just to get a pass out of here!"

Vance and Gibbs looked at the unappealing fare on the tray. Gibbs tilted his head. "That is pretty cruel," he agreed. "I'd rather have an MRE."

"Thanks for the support," Tony said, folding his arms. He turned toward Vance. "How are the kids?" he asked more seriously.

"They're good, Tony," the Director replied. "They both had nightmares for a while, but they seem to be getting along fine now. Jackie says you are to come to dinner as soon as you're released from here so she can say a proper thank you."

Tony thought about the offer. Dinner with Vance. At his new house. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that, but he also couldn't say no to Jackie and the kids. "Sounds nice," he replied. Gibbs smiled as he sensed Tony's unease.

"Boss," Tony asked. "Could you hand me that box over there?" The agent was pointing to a medium sized box on the table by the bed. Gibbs retrieved it for the young man.

Tony cleared his throat. "Do you think you could give this to Kayla for me?" he asked the Director. Tony removed a little-girl sized Ohio State cheerleading uniform from the box. "I thought she might like it."

Vance smiled at the dress, "She'll love it. I can see why you're her Very Special Agent Tony," the Director joked. Tony smiled at the teasing.

"And these are for Jared," he added, handing an envelope to the Director.

Vance looked inside and let out a low whistle. "Four fifty-yard line tickets to Ohio State versus Michigan? How did you manage to swing these, DiNozzo? Are you _dating_ a cheerleader?"

Tony smiled even bigger, "I still have some connections. Besides, I made a promise to Jared and I wanted to keep it."

The Director looked puzzled. "Why four?" he asked.

Tony appeared a little uncomfortable. "Well, me and Jared, of course. Then I had to get one for ole Gibbs here—everyone knows what a football fan he is and I just couldn't go without him, and," he paused and looked at Vance, "I thought you might like to go, too."

Vance knew a peace offering when he saw one. Narrowing his eyes at the young man in the hospital bed, who still looked pale and thin despite the fact he was getting better, Vance noticed just the tiniest bit of insecurity as Tony waited for his answer. The Director wasn't about to turn down the unconventional olive branch.

"Of course I'll go," Vance replied. Tony let out a small breath he didn't know he had been holding. Vance shifted awkwardly, "I have something for you, too," he said, pulling a small box out of his coat pocket.

Taking the gift nervously, Tony opened the lid to reveal the hunting knife that had played such a prominent role in their latest adventure. "Wow," he said, "this was your Dad's, you should keep it, I mean I already have a really good knife," he looked at Gibbs uncertainly. The older man smiled slightly and nodded, giving silent approval of the exchange. "But," continued Tony, "I guess a guy can't have too many of these, especially considering the number of crazy psychos we run into," he stopped, knowing he was on the verge of babbling.

Vance grinned at the agent's discomfort. "I've got to get back to the office," he said, checking his watch and heading for the door. Before he walked out, the Director paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, DiNozzo," he said, "I forgot to warn you." Tony looked up expectantly. "I will be rooting for the Wolverines!"

Vance pulled out a toothpick and laughed before putting it between his teeth. He could still hear Tony yelling to Gibbs about "damn Michigan fans" as he headed for the elevator.

The Director smiled. He might never be in the starting line-up with those two, but it was good to at least finally be on the team.


End file.
